


Dreams of Fire Trees and Silver Moons

by SongsOfAdelaide



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Arranged Marriage, Bathtubs, Bubble Bath, Childhood Friends, Childhood Sweethearts, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, Engagement, Established Relationship, F/M, Falling In Love, Festivals, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Ginkgo Trees, High School, High School Romances, Illnesses, Implied Relationships, Jealousy, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Literal Sleeping Together, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Confessions, Master & Servant, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Rumours, Sakura (Cherry Blossoms), Skipping Class, Sleepiness, Sleeping Together, Slow Romance, Soulmates, Training, Volleyball, World Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24585469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SongsOfAdelaide/pseuds/SongsOfAdelaide
Summary: We follow the trail lined with cherry blossoms and fire trees. || A series of Haikyuu!! Characters x Reader ficlets.✿[New Chapter: ✿ Miya Osamu | Happy Hour and Sweetener][New Chapter: ✿ Ojiro Aran | Starry River Swim]
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Ojiro Aran/Reader, Reader/Everyone, Sakusa Kiyoomi/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader
Comments: 24
Kudos: 159





	1. Summer Tempest Dream || Ushijima Wakatoshi

**Summer Tempest Dream**

\-- ✿ --

**_Adoration_ **

On the summer of your seventh year, you were introduced to a nine-year-old Ushijima Wakatoshi. He wasn't one for the fairy tale love stories, though his birth was like that of a prince's. The high society you were both born in had dictated the course of your futures and he became a constant fixture in your life following that fated first meeting. You recalled how your mother gently urged you to take the taller boy's outstretched hand, the warmth of his fingers curling around your smaller palm as you were slowly pulled to the spacious patio of this unfamiliar home you were in. 

"You can just watch me," he stated as he slipped his hands between your armpits and sat you down on the wooden walkway leading to one of the rooms in his home. "We don't want to get your dress dirty."

And you obliged, taking in his form and appearance as he started tossing a tri-coloured volleyball in the air. The boy, Wakatoshi, had the sharpest olive-brown eyes you've ever seen, and he spoke with much maturity in his voice that you'd mistake him to be much older than nine. He would catch the ball in his hands almost effortlessly and it was enough to amuse you for the rest of the afternoon. Your mother was surprised at how hard you clung onto the boy when she said it was time to leave. 

"Waka!" 

Ushijima had a small smile on his face as he held you in his arms after escaping your mother's grasp. He didn't seem to mind how you bawled and cried into his blue shirt, yet again another testament of his own maturity. You couldn't recall what followed after that, but you did remember crying all the way home after your father arrived and took you from the older boy's arms. 

You spent every summer that came afterwards at the Ushijima estate, usually in the company of the Mistress Chisato, her elegance and straightforward way of dealing with things something you strived and hoped to achieve as you grew older in her presence. From her stories, you could tell that she and your mother were very close friends from the same social circles, same affluent families that cared much about keeping up names and appearances. 

There were days spent with her son as well, when he came home from the Shiratorizawa Academy dorms, and the mere quiet hours you shared with him was something you looked forward to as years passed, even though it seemed like it was something he did out of sheer obligation. Ushijima's growth was impeccable and it came to the point where you had to crane your neck a bit in order to see his face much better. 

He would sometimes call you out to the patio and toss the ball to you as you both spoke of school life and everything else in between. He would hold back his brutish strength as well, his olive-brown eyes would look at you in the gentlest way possible as he softened his tosses and receives, cautious and careful not to overwhelm you.

You found yourself growing as well, hair, arms and limbs getting longer as time passed, but never at the rapid speed as Ushijima, and you resigned yourself to the fact that you may stop growing at some point in your teenage life because your mother was just the same. 

Your mother told you to choose Johzenji High just to keep you close to her for a few more years. She was quite sentimental about the whole thing, especially after she found out that Ushijima's mother encouraged you to take the Shiratorizawa Academy entrance exams. 

_Why not Johzenji,_ you thought. Their uniform was cute, too, _especially the blue ribbon._

On the summer of your sixteenth year, your mother finally relented and told you that you were indeed going to marry the Ushijima boy, which wasn't much of a surprise to you anymore seeing as you've spent every summer faithfully following his mother's trail and piecing conversations with him in between ball tosses and shared cups of green tea. In the back of your mind, you knew that it was coming, _but what about Ushijima himself? Would he agree to this arrangement?_

"Oi, isn't that Ushijima Wakatoshi from Shiratorizawa?! What's he doing here?!"

He didn't leave you with much to think about when he suddenly appeared at your high school one afternoon, the chattering of the other students hushed to whispers when you broke out of the crowd. 

"Wakatoshi!" You ran up to him with the widest smile on your face. "What brings you here? You could've messaged me!"

He was still in his school uniform, not in his training uniform, and everyone in the prefecture would recognise the white blazer and purple pants from the prestigious academy, so it was no wonder he had everyone's attention. _Did he skip club today?_

"I wanted to discuss something with you, Otome," he stated. "What would you like to eat?" 

"I..." You looked up at him curiously. "Are we going somewhere?" 

"Depends on what you would like to eat this afternoon."

"Oh! I know the cutest little tea place nearby!" You pipped up, taking his larger hand in your own as you led the way. "I think they have some Bento meals there as well if you'd like to eat something that isn't sweet!" 

There was no denying that your marriage to him was something you looked forward to, but you never really considered his feelings on this entire arrangement to begin with. You had very little time to prepare if he was here to reject you now, but you calmed your nerves and steeled your resolve. You'll just have to accept whatever he tells you.

A waitress set your cups of green tea and on the table, where a small yellow vase filled with slightly withered white roses and lilies sat atop of the lace tablecloth.

"I heard from my mother that you were finally told of the arrangement."

"Ah, yes," you replied with a smile. You were seated at a table near the window, the afternoon sun cast over the slightly crowded streets. "Did Chisa oba-san tell you to come over?"

 _Of course_ she would send him to come over and end things properly if he wanted to, knowing it would be rude of them to call things off through a letter or—

Ushijima was seated across you, his cup already halfway to his lips when he paused and set it down again.

"I came here to see you on my own," he told you with an unchanged expression on his face. "I wanted to know how you felt about it." 

_He what?_

"I... How I feel about the arrangement?" You echoed his statement. "Waka—"

For someone who was so sure of himself, you've never heard him ask anything about your relationship because you thought it was already obvious how much you liked him from the start. 

"I wanted to know... I wanted to ascertain that you weren't being forced into this. The last thing I would want is for us to part ways in the future and hurt our family. I—"

"I-I'm not! A-And I don't want that, either!" 

His mother told you the story of their divorce and how it made her son distant, emotionally detached and completely inconsolable, so you knew perfectly well where this was coming from. His eyes were wide with surprise as he observed the blush dusting your cheeks slowly creep up to your ears. 

"I know that we grew up together and we've been together for a really long time, but I guess I still have to tell you that I lo... like you, Wakatoshi," you told him, lowering your eyes to the steam swirling above your cup of green tea. You twiddled with the edge of the lace tablecloth between your fingers on your lap and smoothed out your skirt as you nervously spoke. "And I w-would very much want to marry you in the future." 

A short sigh of relief left his lips as he lifted his cup of tea to his lips. "That's very reassuring to hear."

"B-But, Wakatoshi! What about you?! A-Are you—" 

Your eyes met for a moment, a small smile on his face as you hid your own in your palms, a muffled groan leaving your lips. "H-How can you be so c-calm about this?..."

"I like you as well, Otome. I'm happy to know that you aren't being forced into an arrangement that may make you unhappy in the future."

"Are you kidding me?" You said with a small laugh, finally taking the cup of tea in your hands. "I love every moment I spend with you... Though sometimes I feel like you spend time with me just because you're obliged to do so by Chisa oba-san."

"I apologise if that's how you felt, Otome. I don't speak of it much, but I actually like spending time with you and listening to you," he said as he reached for your hands, the warmth of his touch all too comforting. "Regardless, we have a lifetime to spend together, so I can make it up—"

"Wakatoshi, there's no need to rush," you squeezed his hands. "It's true that we have a lifetime to share and that should be enough of a guarantee for us! I know you have dreams of becoming a world-class volleyball player and you know I want to become a novelist... The marriage is... It can always wait as long as we're here. Right now, we have all the time in the world to become who we want to be!"

"Thank you, Otome."

You beamed at him and he managed another small smile as he lifted your hands to his lips. 

_Ah,_ he really did adore you and you could tell that he did, regardless of how little he showed it. His words were sparse and all the more valuable, so you made sure to listen whenever he had something to tell you. 

\-- ✿ --

_**Speak Easy** _

The warmth of your breath quickly fogged your sight as you exhaled into the coolness of the afternoon air. The cool weather in Sendai only meant that winter was fast approaching. You had just arrived at Shiratorizawa Academy from your own school mere moments ago, but you checked your phone for any messages.

"Otome-chyaaan!"

"Ah! Satori-san!" You turned and greeted the redhead with open arms but was quickly drawn into his own, a fit of light laughter leaving your lips as you were lifted off the ground and spun around. 

Tendou was your favourite out of all of Ushijima's friends, who were really just composed of the members of the entire Shiratorizawa Volleyball Club. You were first introduced to them the summer break after your graduation from middle school, when you were about to enter high school at Johzenji High. Everyone had the most bewildered look on their faces when you accidentally walked in on them having snacks in one of the spacious rooms at the Ushijima estate while wearing nothing but an oversized shirt that clearly belonged to the young master of the house. None of them budged from the tatami floor as you were introduced by Ushijima as a childhood friend, later as his betrothed of sorts after you left the room in haste, the sliding doors gently slamming behind you. 

You pursed your lips as you heard the rising voices, cheers and jeers erupt from the room after your departure. 

You were dressed more appropriately the next time they came over, in a blouse and skirt, with Chisa oba-san instructing you to serve them tea and _wagashi_. It was Tendou who made you stay as you tried to excuse yourself from the room after handing each one of them a steaming hot cup of freshly brewed green tea. He graciously introduced every member that was present in the room, starting from them, the second-years, down to their _kouhais_ , and his cheerful warmth was something you could never forget. 

Tendou doted on you like he would a younger sister. Not that he had any, but you were the closest thing to that. 

"How have you been?" 

"I've been well!" You happily replied, fingers gently curling into the fabric of his club sweater. "And you?"

The redhead gave you the warmest of smiles as he rattled off about their lighter training regime. Following their Interhigh loss to another local high school, it meant the conclusion of their days of playing high school volleyball, hence the lighter training for the third years. 

"Yeah, and Wakatoshi-kun was—" he stopped himself, quickly turning to see where Ushijima was. "Wait a moment, he was—" 

"Sorry," came the soft reply from the ace. He was in their tracksuit as well. "You sounded like you were having a nice conversation and I didn't want to—"

"Wakatoshi-kun, Otome-chan came here to see you!" The redhead set you on the ground. "Well, you could say I was a bit thrilled to see her as well." 

"Wakatoshi!" 

Your excited form was something Ushijima had gotten used to from the many years you spent together. However, you would always stop halfway and greet him with a mild hold or a touch to his hands, something that was so different from the way you held out your arms _to Tendou, of all people._

_Yes,_ Ushijima finally realised that you held back so much more of the excitement your smaller body contained, and he confirmed it when your pace began to slow as you were face to face with him, smaller hands reaching out for his larger ones. 

"Chisa oba-san told me to come over, so I decided to come and see you first. I'm glad you're all right with this!"

Part of him wished he could speak with you much freely and much easily, but warm words never came easy to him. Even simple words never came easy to him. 

"Wakatoshi?" 

He was surprised at how you gently squeezed his hands. "Right. I'm glad you came to see me." 

"Oh, right! I got you some Castella!" You fished for the slightly wrinkled box in your backpack. "Share it with everyone." 

The box quickly met his hands as you zipped your bag closed. "Would you like to send a message to Chisa oba-san?" 

"I have nothing to say to her."

"Oh," came your slightly disappointed reply. "A-All right, then." 

"I'll take this to the gym!" Tendou took the box of sweets from their ace's hands. "Come see us again soon, Otome-chan!" 

You waved at the retreating figure with a smile on your face, your lips slowly pursing as you looked back up at Ushijima, who stepped up and gently reached for your hands. 

"Thank you for seeing me."

"It's a pleasure, Wakatoshi," you broke out into a smile again. "Look, I know you're a guy of very few words and I appreciate that you're trying to communicate with me more, but it's fine with me if you don't really speak much."

"... Right."

"You can leave all the talking to me if you like."

"Yes. I think that sounds a lot better." 

"Anyways, your mother might be waiting, so I should—" 

"Let me walk you to the bus stop," he led the way, your hand in his as you tried to match his pace. "How was your day?"

"Our club started doing some embroidery today and I..."

He may not be able to speak easy at this point in time, but he didn't really mind if it let him listen to you more. 

\-- ✿ --

_**Tempest Dream** _

On the summer of your eighteenth year and your last year in high school, the Ushijima matriarch asked for you to stay with her ahead of her son's departure to Tokyo. The country considered Ushijima a prized player, so it wasn't an entirely new thing to you. He would be away for training camps for months and return home looking rather aged but refreshed. You decided that this look suited him well. 

Chisa oba-san had left her son to pack his things after a long talk. Come nightfall, you heard rather heavy footsteps against the wooden walkways approaching your room.

"Otome," you heard the low voice call for you from outside. "It's Wakatoshi."

"Yes, I know," you closed your book and got up from the tatami floor, sliding your door open for the tall figure standing outside. "Come in?"

He gave you a short bow before entering your room. It had been yours ever since you started spending your summers there, the refined black dresser something you inherited from his mother. You were quick to follow him in, shutting the sliding door behind you as you eyed his figure. 

He curiously looked around the place and every corner of it had traces of you, from your selection of novels to the little tubes and bottles of hair and skincare products displayed neatly on the distinct black dresser. 

He recalled how his mother would prepare herself in front of that same black dresser, a smile on her painted lips as she clipped her earrings in place. She would reach out to his younger form, sitting him on her lap as she hummed a song while pulling her hair up to a ribbon. The make-up was thrown out little by little as the years went on, the dresser moved out of her room the last time she held him in her arms, remarking and marvelling at how much he had grown. 

Ushijima never stopped growing. He had broken six feet back when he was in high school while you remained shorter than him, but it wasn't something that bothered you both. The shadow cast over the light shirt he wore accentuated the broadness of his shoulders, a stark contrast to his dark track pants. 

"Wakatoshi?" 

The soft way you called out to him snapped him back to reality. The dresser was yours now, but he rarely saw you use it. 

"We might not see each other for quite a while," he started. "So I'd like us to have a proper farewell for the meantime." 

"I might still be here when you return," you beckoned him to sit beside you on the tatami floor. "But then again, maybe I won't."

He took his place beside you, your fingers brushing as he steadied himself. "Have you considered where you're going after high school? I do remember your mother saying you were going to college the last time we met her."

"Mm, yes. I'm going to a junior college," you beamed at him, lacing your fingers into his. He closed his hand into yours and suddenly felt so small. 

"That sounds great."

"I'll have to stay here and look after Chisa oba-san for a bit. She's... a little lonely," you played with the hem of your shirt, and he recognised it as something he already outgrew. "Have you spoken to her?"

"Yeah. She said she wished me well," he stated, turning to face you. "And to come home whenever I can." 

"That's good, Wakatoshi," you said with a small laugh. "You should come home every once in a while." 

"I will."

The quiet that followed afterwards wasn't uncomfortable seeing as it was something you've gotten used to whenever the two of you spoke. His short replies were something you became accustomed to after all the conversations you had with him over the years and you were aware that he was constantly trying to improve the quality of your exchange. 

"Oh, right, I wanted to ask you something," you faced him. "It's really nothing serious... but you're playing for a prestigious team, so you're bound to get popular. What are you gonna tell the media when they ask about relationships?"

Ushijima blinked at you and you could tell that he was processing his thoughts as he remained quiet and unable to respond immediately. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly withdrew his unsaid words. 

"Well, I guess you can always brush off those kinds of questions since they're so personal, after all. It's—"

He broke his silence. "Would it be all right for me to tell them that I'm engaged to you?" 

"Wh-What?!" You squealed, eyes wide at his sudden reply. 

"Only if they ask." 

He was unsure of what to do with the quiet that followed his statement, but the fit of laughter that left your mouth was something he hasn't heard for quite a while now. He decided that he would miss it. 

"Yes, Wakatoshi, only if they ask," you wiped a tear that formed in the corner of your eye. "Maybe I shouldn't have asked you that." 

It's been a while since you spoke like this, his words still uneasy, but you could tell that he was trying, especially when he held your gaze with much tenderness. He looked at you with the same kind of tenderness throughout the years and it would probably shock you once he starts looking at you differently. 

"Wakatoshi."

"Yes?"

"I really do love you," you said with a small smile. "But I'm not gonna wait around here like a sad little songbird." 

"Of course you don't have to wait. You're free to do whatever you wish, Otome." 

"I'm gonna tell people I have a boyfriend so they won't bother me," you rested your head against his arm, slipping your fingers between his own. "I want to dream about you when I go to junior college so that I'll remain grounded."

The stillness of the evening finally settled in, the gentle chirping of the cicadas filling in the silence that enveloped your figures.

"What time do you leave tomorrow?" 

"Eight o'clock."

"Then you should go to sleep."

"I..." The hesitation in his voice made you look up almost instantly. "Can I sleep here tonight?"

 _Ah,_ you could get lost in those shining olive-brown eyes. "Wakatoshi?..."

The self-consciousness that came after he gently pulled you into an embrace was something you never dealt with before. You rarely hugged and kissed even after all those years spent growing up with him, but his initiative rattled you so much to the point that it made you cry. 

"W-Wait a moment. You sound like you're gonna leave me—" 

Ushijima lifted your chin with a hooked index finger and met your wide tear-shined eyes and red nose. "...still so beautiful even with that sad expression. Don't look at me that way, please."

"L-Look at you like what?..." You couldn't help the way your voice cracked. "Waka—" 

Not a lot of words followed after he leaned down for a kiss. He moved slowly and tenderly, meeting your emerging eagerness with rapt anticipation. He gathered you in his arms as you moved to coil yours around his neck, neither of you breaking contact at all... But you were crying too much that he had to stop and see if you were still all right, his large, callused hands cupping your face and wiping away the salty tears you both had a taste of just moments ago. 

"S-Sorry. I c-can't help my tears," you stammered, gripping his wrists as you felt his thumbs brush over your cheeks. "A-And we've never kissed like this before!" 

"Then remind me to kiss you more when I come back," he murmured, the faintest of smiles on his lips as he pulled you in for another kiss. 

He felt a certain kind of relief that he never really kissed you that often because it really was such an addictive thing and he would definitely find himself craving for this. He wasn't wrong, though, especially since he found himself silently pining and wishing to head home even after he had just arrived in Tokyo. That would have to wait since he won't be coming home for gods know how long. 

Their team's dormitories were clean, pristine and quiet, a modern style penthouse apartment that overlooked much of the city and a faint trail of mountain ranges visible in the horizon. The coaches and the rest of the team management left their players to unpack their belongings in their respective lodging.

Ushijima found a peach-coloured drawstring bag hastily stuffed into one of his training bags, something he clearly didn't pack for himself. It had an assortment of yellow flowers embroidered on it, a little note tied to the strings as he fished it out from the larger bag that contained his clothes. The small smile on his face was enough to startle his teammates passing by his room, their amusement drowned out by the sound of his fiancee's voice playing in his head.

 _'Wakatoshi,'_ the note started. _'Stop daydreaming and stay focused. Love you!'_

The bag was weighty enough to make him curious about its contents and the number of assorted energy jelly packs didn't disappoint, noting that there were at least 12 in it. _The thanks will have to wait,_ he thought to himself. All he could do now was fervently wish for tempest dreams to come see him in his sleep, just like what you told him the night before.

\-- ✿ --

 _ **Familiarity**_

The Mistress Chisato would ask for your presence in their home on the very rare days when her son would return from his school's dormitories. Weekends were made for a bit of lazing around, she told you, and the first thing you did when you arrived at the Ushijima estate from school was lounge about. The afternoon sun was blocked by an overcast shadow and it prompted you to look up from what you were reading while you were languorously splayed on the tatami floor of your room, the sliding doors drawn open to let in the cool breeze. 

"Hello, Wakatoshi."

"Have you been well, Otome?" 

Ushijima had just arrived home and was still in his school tracksuit, a volleyball tucked under his arm as he eyed your rising figure. You got up to greet him, dusting and smoothing out your school uniform as you met his gaze, his eyes flickering from your face to the blue ribbon on your chest. 

"Is something wrong?" 

"Ah, no. I'm sorry for staring," he started. "I see you're reading Volleyball Monthly."

"Yes, I was!" You hurriedly grabbed the magazine on the floor and flipped through the glossy pages. "Have you seen your photo, Wakatoshi? The one for the Youth World Championship. You looked great, as always! You know the people at my school think you're a really cool player and I always say that's a given you've worked hard—"

The rambling paused when you felt him staring at you again. "S-Sorry, Wakatoshi. Ah... Ever since you made that sudden appearance at Johzenji, people have been asking me non-stop about our relationship. The guys are always asking what's an elite player like you got to do with someone like me."

"And you...?"

"I said you were my childhood friend, which is true, by the way, so I didn't really lie to them," you placed your magazine on your tea table and stepped outside, gently taking the ball in his hands. "Apart from you, the girls in my class also like talking about Miyagi's best setter. You know, the one you said who should have gone to your school instead."

"Oikawa Tooru," Ushijima filled in the blank. 

"Yes. Him," you spun the ball in your hands as you stepped off the wooden walkway and slipped into a light pair of wooden sandals before hopping onto the estate's patio. "Some of the guys in my class are pretty familiar with the top aces and such, like the ones from Itachiyama and Mujinazaka." 

"Sakusa Kiyoomi and Wakatsu Kiryu," Ushijima trailed your steps, watching you closely as the ball was tossed a moderate height into the air, just enough for you to catch with your fingers again. He took his place a few steps in front of you, anticipating a rather curved toss as you dunked the ball towards him. 

"I remember reading about them on Volleyball Monthly and I'm not really surprised that you know them," you huffed, bending over as you clasped your hands to receive. "Surround yourself with strong players and you're driven to become stronger." 

"That's true," he remarked, tossing the ball to your direction. "What good is strength and talent if isn't put to good use in the right place?"

A strong _'tsk'_ left his mouth as he felt himself go overboard with his toss. "Otome, it's—"

The hard expression on his face swiftly melded into a rare look of wonder. Nothing ever fazed him, but his eyes were wide as you leapt and caught his toss in your hands. It was an odd spectacle for him and a rather unexpected move from you as he would always warn you of shots you may not be able to catch or receive. You landed perfectly on your feet, hands throbbing as you felt the impact of his toss reverberate through your arms. 

"You're a well-rounded player, Wakatoshi, but don't forget to keep an open mind," you smiled at him. "Strong players always start out from somewhere and they can emerge from wherever... and even in the most unexpected places."

The ball was gently pushed against his chest, you hands shaking as you looked up at him with a crooked smile. "Want to have tea with me?"

\-- ✿ --

_**Promise** _

On the summer of your twenty-first year and your last summer in Tokyo, you came across one of the most prominent volleyball teams in the country during their early morning jog around the vicinity.

Or rather, _they came across you._

It was still fairly early in Yokohama and the colourful streets weren't bustling with any crowds or activities yet, but the familiar sight of a woman in a long skirt and denim jacket trying to evade a stranger's touch was enough to pique one of the Schweiden Adlers' starting players. 

Especially since she happened to be his fiancee. 

"I said let go of me," you snarled at the guy who clutched your wrist tightly. "I already told you I have a boyfriend. What's so hard to understand about that?"

Being harassed the first thing in the morning wasn't the best way to start the day, but meeting your fiance in the middle of such an embarrassing spat was an insult to injury. You read the same kind of thing happening to one of the friends you made in the city, about how some men are relentless in pursuing their object of affection when they saw no territorial signs around her. _It was bullshit,_ you thought to yourself, even more so now that it was happening to you while you were minding your own business while on your way to the Shinkansen. The guy was a former co-worker from your last part-time job, and he was gravely offended when you resigned from work to head back to the countryside. 

"Excuse me." 

The stern voice was enough to startle you and the guy that couldn't take _"no"_ for an answer, and it didn't take long for you to be completely surrounded by your fiance's entire team. 

All of them were tall and in white tracksuits and even though you tried to memorise who they were, especially after Ushijima named them one by one during your last date with him, it was always him who stood out from them all and no one could really blame you since he's been the love of your life for the gods know how long. 

"Oh! The girl in Ushijima's wallpaper!" One of the younger players exclaimed, green eyes wide in anticipation of their opposite hitter's next move. He must be Hoshiumi Korai. 

"She's my fiancee. The one I've been telling you about," Ushijima stated, taking hold of the stranger's wrist. "She already said she was spoken for, so why are you still hanging around her?"

The guy was sweating bullets on his spot, his sweater drenched after following you around the entire morning. He finally relented and loosened his grip on your hand while snatching his own away from the player's grip. 

"What a freak," he said, stumbling away from you. "You're a freak, too, Otome!"

"What did you—" You were on your heel as you grit your teeth in response to his rude remark, but you were swiftly held back. 

"Don't listen to him, Otome," Ushijima squeezed your hand, snapping you back to reality. You suddenly felt rather insignificant right next to him, even more so because of your appearance and choice of attire. You were on your way home and didn't even bother thinking about it twice when you stepped out of your lodging earlier, but it made you feel a bit out of place right now. The entire team had curious eyes on you, prompting you to suddenly smooth out your skirt and hair. 

"Ah! It's nice to meet you all!" You gave them a deep bow. "I'm Otome! Waka— Um, Ushijima-san's, uh..."

"Fiancee," the team captain, Hirugami Fukuro, smiled at you. "Don't worry, Otome-chan, we know all about you." 

"I never thought arranged marriages were still a thing, Wakatoshi!" One of the older players warmly remarked. There was no mistaking that he was the world-class ace, Nicollas Romero, and he took your hand to give it a firm shake. " _Lindinha!_ "

"I think Romero-san meant to say she's pretty." Said another one, and you recognised him as Kageyama Tobio from _"the concrete"_ , something that made you giggle when Ushijima first talked to you about how he was apprehended for letting strangers into Shiratorizawa. 

"They still are in our families," Ushijima replied, bringing a hand to your warm cheek as he urged you to look up at him. "Are you all right?" 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you smiled at him, placing your hand over his own and basking in his warmth. "I'm all right, Wakatoshi." 

"This is why I said I would see you off. You said he was harmless. What if he did something—" 

"I'm all right," you stated with a sigh, finally letting go and shrugging to readjust the rather large duffel bag hanging on your shoulder. The curious stares were still present, making you even more self-conscious. "A-Anyway! You really should continue your morning jog. I might miss my ride if we hang around here!"

"You should take her to the station, Ushijima," their captain spoke once again. "We'll tell Coach about it, so don't worry."

"Ah, no! There's really no need—" you raised your hands in defence, only to be cut off when Ushijima reached for your bag and slung it over his right shoulder effortlessly.

"Let him take you to the station, _hime_ -san!" Hoshiumi stated with a grin. "Pretty sure he'll miss you a lot since you won't be seeing each other for quite a while, right?"

The Adlers bade you a short farewell before resuming their jogging track, leaving behind their popular southpaw player. 

"Sorry I won't be able to celebrate your birthday with you," he took your hand in his and led the way to the Shin-Yokohama Station. 

"I'm sorry I won't be here for your birthday as well," you grinned at him. "But I'm sure you'll have fun celebrating your birthday here. And we were able to see the sakura together, so I guess it's all right." 

The early morning air was still crisp and cool and a part of you was proud that you could finally keep up with your fiance's pace much easier, even though you knew he was taking smaller steps than he normally would. Ushijima, who had grown into a prized player, looked quite aged but still as striking as ever with his usual collected expression. 

"I'll send you passes to our first game of the season. You do know V.League's about to start in a few months' time, right?" 

"Yes, Wakatoshi. In November, which is just four months away. All the more you shouldn't be slacking off at your training," you quipped, playfully punching his arm. "Honestly. You could've just scared him away and let me go on my own. Our mothers didn't raise a weak girl."

"I was wondering why the sudden return home, Otome. Did my mother...?" He turned to look at you as you waited at a stoplight. 

"Wakatoshi, I just signed my first writing contract from a publisher," you flashed a wide smile and a peace sign at him. "That's why I'm heading home. So I can start rewriting."

"Congratulations," he managed a small smile. "We could have celebrated this." 

"We can celebrate when you return to Miyagi. Surely you'll be afforded at least a day or two to come home after your first match of the season." 

"I guess I can make that happen."

The rest of your walk to Shin-Yokohama with Ushijima was spent with you chattering about your new editor from the publishing company and how she mentioned that she was a fan of the Adlers as well when she saw that you had a photo with their number 11 as your mobile phone wallpaper. 

"See you in November," you told him, lugging your duffel bag over your shoulder as you stood before the open train doors. You were about to offer him a handshake when he gently took your face in his hands and brushed a kiss on your forehead. You fought the tears that threatened to spring out of your eyes when he held your gaze, thumbs running over your cheeks. 

He smiled at you, one of the warmest he's ever given. "Yes, I'll see you soon."

\-- ✿ --

 _ **Providentia**_ **[Soulmate/Reincarnation AU]**

It was said that when a person meets their soulmate, the red string of fate would immediately shoot out of their wrists, like blood streaming out of their veins, and establish their connection right on the spot. The world was lined with those red threads, each one coming from a person's wrist, all seamlessly connecting hearts in pairs. 

The famous author Ushijima Wakatoshi, who published novels under his penname Utsui Wakatoshi, wrote about a world of love, loss and victory despite never having experienced it— _**love**_ — and his co-authors found a certain charm in his work since he had a real feel and concept of what it truly felt like— the feeling of meeting someone and knowing that they were made for each other. 

While he played very little volleyball in his life, he often found himself dreaming of it, being in the centre of the court and the star of the show, and in those dreams, he always won. 

It was said that recurring dreams like those were fragments of a person's past life, but he didn't care much for the past when he's so preoccupied with the present. 

"You know, Wakatoshi-kun, with your big fanbase and the huge number of people reading your work, anyone out there could be your soulmate," the red-head told his friend across their table. Soft morning sunlight filtered through the little wooden coffee shop's window, two cups of tea basking in it as a waitress stepped out to lower their awning. 

"Now that you mentioned it, your last book's pretty amazing," the red-head went on, adjusting the sleeves of his beige turtleneck as he took the cup of tea in his hands, the bright red thread spilling on their table. "You really have a way of talking about both the complexities and simplicities of two people who are in love. Are you sure you haven't met your soulmate yet?" 

The brunet from across the table managed a grin as he brought his cup of tea to his lips. "Thanks, Tendou, but as you can see..."

The lack of the crimson stream from his wrist was made even more evident with the way he had the sleeves of his maroon dress shirt folded up to his forearms. Tendou let out a light _'tsk'_ as he took a sip from his cup of tea. 

"Oh, pardon us for intruding..." A pair of young women approached their table. "You're Utsui Wakatoshi, right? The famous writer?" 

For some reason, being in the spotlight felt natural for him. It came to him like second nature even though he was sure he's never known this feeling before. The brunet nodded at the women with a small smile on his lips. 

"We're a huge fan of your work," one of them started. "I loved _'Hope for Fire Trees'_! It's what really got me interested in volleyball! I'm eagerly awaiting your next novel!" 

"Thank you very much. I'm glad you enjoyed reading it," Ushijima replied, suddenly becoming very self-conscious as one of the women pulled out a copy of his book from her bag. Tendou noticed how his friend stiffened after being handed the book and a pen for an autograph. They both saw it as clear as day, the streams of bright red coming from both of the women's wrists. They had no idea where each of it led, but the brunet didn't feel any sting or pain in his own. 

"Of course," Ushijima took the copy of his book and opened it to the front page. "To whom shall I address this message?" 

The women were more than happy to have encountered one of their favourite authors in such an obscure coffee shop. They left the two men's clothing presence with a quick bow, the jingling of the bells that hung on the mahogany door signifying their exit from the cafe, and effectively, Ushijima's life. 

"Were you hoping for something to happen, Wakatoshi-kun? Couldn't help but notice how you froze there for a second," Tendou teased. The brunet chuckled as he shook his head, taking a sip from his cup of warm green tea. 

"Tendou, you may as well be my soulmate since you know everything that's running in my head."

"So sorry to disappoint you, dear friend, but you do know there's someone waiting for me to come home, right?" The red-head said with a laugh. The silence that followed his statement gave way for him to ask his friend another question. 

"Speaking of home, don't you plan on returning to yours any time soon?" 

Home was merely a concept to Ushijima now, especially since he hasn't been to his for the gods know how long. He was from an ancient and traditional household from the Japanese countryside that still holds customs, heritage and prestige over anything and everything else. He wasn't thrown out by his overbearing mother after refusing an arranged marriage to an unknown, but he left their estate on his own accord, forfeiting his rights as the young master of their house by taking up his father's name, which happened to be the one he's known for. 

Ushijima was the product of a failed arranged marriage that spanned a handful of years, his father vanishing from his life after divorcing his mother, and he would never forgive himself if the same thing were to happen to him and his _'bride'_. His mother deemed his choice as foolish, saying he would undo everything their family worked hard to build. 

Nevertheless, he knew for a fact that his mother's love for him never soured, especially since he would frequently receive correspondence from her, urging him to come home and undo the mess he started. He never became fully aware of whatever mess he left at home, but he was both glad to be free of it and ever curious about what it might have been. 

Maybe he'll never know, but maybe he was about to find out as well. 

As for you, your interest in volleyball was sparked many years ago. You often found yourself dreaming about it, the thrill of being on the court, even though you were clearly only a spectator in those nightly visions. The game was your first love more than anything else, and the thought of meeting your soulmate never crossed your mind until you read one of Utsui Wakatoshi's novels and fell in love with the concept of loving someone who was made perfectly for you. While he wrote the book with every detail he found right and appropriate, it was already common knowledge that he still hadn't met his soulmate, even though he was already 24 years old. 

It wasn't a rare thing, of course. People could meet their soulmates as early as childhood, their threads only growing stronger the more years they spend together, but there were others who waited for decades before finally seeing the red string emerge from their wrist with their own eyes. Every now and then, you would look at the course of blue veins underneath the skin on your wrists and think of someone you never met and if they were waiting for you to show up. 

You played for a V.League Division 1 Women's team based near the seaside, but you were all heading to Tokyo with the start of the new season. A heroes' homecoming greeted the entire team as you arrived in the city, the buildings catching light at each angle, blinding you as arena lights would whenever you played a game. Spotlights weren't your thing, and you never got used to them no matter how hard you tried. 

Your teammates called it a grand stroke of luck when they found out that Utsui Wakatoshi was holding a book signing at a little cafe nearby your team lodging. Tokyo was large enough as it is and you never even expected to meet him there, so maybe you really had luck on your side considering how the odds of him being in Yokohama was nearly inexistent. You would take your chances, though, and meet the writer of those life-like stories you plunged into every after training session. 

There was nothing to lose but everything to gain. 

The book signing was a rather intimate event and those without copies of their books were sadly turned away from the premises. Even though you tried your best to be as inconspicuous as possible, the blue tracksuit with yellow lining was so recognisable that you had to sign a few autographs and take a few photos with fans yourself, something you still have yet to get used to even after all those years of playing volleyball. 

You had just gotten out of training in a rush and hoped to be the last person that Utsui Wakatoshi would see, but there were a few more fans of his waiting outside the cafe. 

_Now or never,_ you told yourself. The cafe was quiet as the writer took a short break from all the signing, stretching his arms and hands as he sat before an elegant wooden long table that had a number of pens and sheets of paper on it.

"Hello. Are you here to have your book signed?" 

You froze on your spot when he called out to you, a tiny smile on his face as he reached for a pen. Ah, he was definitely more good-looking in person, especially with that mustard turtleneck and beige-brown overcoat. 

"Y-Yes! It's such an honour to meet you, Utsui-san! _'Hope for Fire Trees'_ is such a timeless masterpiece and I really related to the story!" 

Ushijima was a little surprised by your enthusiastic greeting and he recognised your team colours though he couldn't remember the name. "You're from that team from Hitachi." 

"Ah, yes," you handed him your copy of his book, the orange cover flipped open after he uncapped his pen. "They call us the rebels."

He gently pushed his glasses back up his nose and you couldn't help but think that he really was handsome and the photo used for his biographies didn't do him justice at all. "To whom shall I address this message to?" 

"O-Otome! My name is Otome!"

"Otome..." Your name rolled out of his mouth as he scribbled a message on the front page of the book and noticed that he was actually left-hand. "Good luck with your games this season."

"Thank you so much!" You gave him a bow as he handed back your book. 

"You'll be playing at Yokohama Arena, yes? I'll be looking forward to your games," he held out a hand to you and you found your hand drawn in almost instantly, the odd intensity of your touch startling both of you. 

"Ah, sorry. My hands are sweaty. I just, uh," you replied with a crooked grin as you shook the hand of your favourite author, the sting in your wrist undeniably electric and painful now. "S-Sorry, Utsui-san, I—"

Your hand was shaking, prompting you to look down at Ushijima, who had the same pained expression on his face that forced him up on his feet, the crashing of his chair enough to catch the attention of the cafe owner. 

"Wakatoshi-kun, are you all right?" A red-headed man in a dark blue dress shirt approached you, his eyes wide with shock and wonder as he paused from his steps. 

The glowing stream of red that shot out of your right wrist was knotted seamlessly with the crimson string that emerged from the writer's left wrist. It was a rather painful process as it did mean that you were sharing a lifeline now. 

You saw the shiny thread from your wrist and how it led back to the one who wrote about a world you wanted to get lost in. Utsui Wakatoshi was your soulmate. 

"I'm closing up shop, Wakatoshi-kun!" The red-head exclaimed, running to the cafe door to shutter out everyone else before hysterically pulling on his own hair. "What are you waiting for?! Talk to her!"

A hand flew over Ushijima's mouth as he tried to make sense of what exactly happened. The pain occurred for a moment but he was now sharing an eternity with someone. 

He could see it. The glow of the newly-emerged stream of red that he waited so long to appear, connecting him to the figure standing right in front of him. 

"S-Sorry," he stammered. "It's funny because I rehearsed it in my head a million times... What I would tell my soulmate when we finally meet, but now I can't really find the right words to tell you."

"It's fine," you let out a soft laugh as you raised your book to your chest. "You said everything I needed to know perfectly right here."

After hearing your words, Tendou knew perfectly well that his best friend finally found his home. 

The cafe owner said it was the best seat in the house, and it was where he and Ushijima often sat to have tea while talking about the strangeness and trivialities of their lives. You were the one seated across the brunet now, cups of warm green tea before the two of you.

"I'm curious how you came across my writing," Ushijima started. "I know it's about volleyball, but I only started writing about it recently."

"I had dreams about volleyball," you replied with a smile. "It was funny because I never saw myself playing in my dreams, but I was always... watching someone instead. I don't know who he was, but I think whoever I was in my past life must have loved him a lot."

"I've never really played the sport professionally, but I... often found myself dreaming about playing the game and being the strongest player out there."

You couldn't help but think that the gods really favoured you with how seamlessly you connected with Ushijima, even though you've only met him. Whether it was luck or the favour of the gods, you most certainly outdid yourself now. 

"So it was your dreams that got you into the sport?"

"I was, uh, betrothed to someone," you brought a finger to your cheek. "I'm actually from Miyagi. Do you know Sendai?"

"Can we still consider it a coincidence that we're both from Sendai?" he said with a chuckle. 

"I come from this really old-fashioned family," you went on, his attention clearly piqued when you mentioned your origins. "My mother wanted me to marry the young master of another house, but the guy... he... sort of ran away from home. At least that's how his mother described the whole thing."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn't believe the odds of this encounter ever happening. The strangest of all was he couldn't believe how much shared history you had with him without either of you knowing about it. 

_It was you all along._

"Were you... disappointed?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Are you kidding me?" You laughed. "I thought what he did was amazing. To think that he would defy his own family like that and start his own life somewhere. I had to admit that it was a bold move and I was jealous, so I... kind of did the same thing."

"You ran away?"

You lowered your eyes to the steam swirling above the cup, your taped fingers gently caressing its edges. "They wanted me to be the ideal young lady and they were holding onto the thought that the young master would eventually come home. However, they left me to do what I want when it became clear to them that it wasn't going to happen." 

The string was still glowing. 

"So I played volleyball," you looked up at him with wonder in your eyes, his olive-brown eyes staring back at you with the same kind of amazement as you held his gaze. 

"Otome, you might not believe what I'm about to tell you," he laced his fingers together. "But what if I told you that I was the runaway young master of this traditional family from the countryside?"

"Wh-What?..."

"I was afraid," he looked out at the cafe window, the streets painted with streaks of orange sunset. 

"My parents were an arranged match that didn't work in the end. I guess I didn't want my own family to suffer the same fate as they did. Who would have thought that our families would know right from the start that we..."

It was a rare occurrence, but he knew his family had enough prestige and influence to have access to that kind of oracle and fortune-telling. His mother wasn't wrong when she told him that he would come home on his own accord one day. 

"Utsui-san?" 

"You can call me by my name, Otome."

"W..." Your lips quivered. "Wakatoshi."

The tenderness of his gaze was something you could get used to. It was comfortable and too familiar and it made you wonder how deep you really were linked to this man. 

"We can go home, you know," you told him. "We have enough proof that fate tied us together even after we carved out our own destinies."

You beamed at him and he managed another small smile as he lifted your hands to his lips. 

"Yes, I think I'd like that." 

Maybe coming home isn't such a bad idea now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Edit: 7 December 2020**
> 
> Hello, lovers! This was formerly the _'Glossarium'_ , which I did away with after much consideration since it only served as a table of contents. 
> 
> **Some notes to consider as you read this series:**
> 
> **_Who is Otome?_ **
> 
> I use "Otome" as a placeholder for "Y/N" because I thought it looked much nicer in the stories I write. The term "Otome" is from otome games, or maiden games, and in these stories Otome would literally mean maiden, or Maiden-chan, which pretty much means Y/N. 
> 
> **_Otome's gender_ **
> 
> I write from a female's perspective, so I apologise for the lack of flexibility. I feel I'm not confident enough to write in a multi-gendered perspective seeing as I am a straight young woman. However, the readers are free to consider each story as F/F or M/M if it please them! 
> 
> **_A love note from the author ✿_ **
> 
> Hello, dear friends and readers! Here I am again with another ficlet collection! I hope you enjoy reading these as much as I enjoyed writing them! 
> 
> For those of you wondering, yes, I will be finishing _Strawberry Skies and Starlight_! It's a passion project of mine and I've already written content for most of the characters featured in that collection, but then again, there's also the occasional bout of writer's block, so I pray for your patience and understanding! 
> 
> _Dreams of Fire Trees and Silver Moons_ doesn't follow a fixed set of prompts unlike the last collection (this one's pretty freeform as well), so I have a feeling that updates here will be more frequent. I'll also be keeping this at one chapter per character and provide updates if there are any. 
> 
> Like always, I find it a dear pleasure to read heartwarming comments from you all. You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/quirklessbeauty) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.qa/quirklessbeauty). You're free to hit me up there and ask me about anything goes, really. See you at the next one! Bring it!
> 
> _~ Songs of Adelaide ♡_


	2. Glittering Sea || Kuroo Tetsurou

**Glittering Sea**

\-- ✿ --

_**Surrogate** _

For everyone else, being the captain's girlfriend meant pretty much being the surrogate club manager. 

It was both a pleasure and a headache, having to be there for them during their game time but being unable to attend to them in the best way you could because you didn't have manager privileges. It wasn't an official thing, after all. 

Regardless, the Nekoma Volleyball Club loved and treasured you dearly ever since you unknowingly won their hearts, even reaching the point where you even managed to endear yourself to their coaches. Your presence was enough assurance that they had someone looking out for them, with a thin strip of red tape separating you from the club as they persisted in their games. 

You would stop by the school gymnasium after your own club activities, the crinkling of the bag of goodies in your hands enough to distract the whole team from whatever they were doing before you arrived. The coaches Nekomata and Naoi teased you for being a such a great bribe-giver but were nevertheless grateful for the usual green tea you brought for them. The way the players called out your name in chorus never failed to surprise you, the younger players quick to gather around you in their immaculately white shirts drenched in post-training sweat even before the third years could reprimand them. It was Kenma who was usually left in charge of delegating whatever it was you brought for them— packs of energy jelly this time. 

"You need to stop spoiling them, you know."

And Kuroo would pull you aside after they were all settled with their snacks. 

"Sorry, Tetsurou," you smiled at him. "Force of habit." 

This was a routine you developed ever since he became the captain of the team, and his elevation to that role was somewhat an expected choice since he had their elderly coach's trust ever since he started playing under him in high school. Kuroo turned to the rest of the club, who were all happily sipping the chilled energy jelly packs that were in your hands mere moments ago. 

"They turn into little saps when you arrive," he let out a small _'tsk'_ as he crossed his arms over his chest. Lev and Kenma were quick to turn to you, tiny scowls on their faces as they sought to reprimand their own captain.

"Oi, Kuroo-san! Stop being mean to Otome-san!" 

"We can hear you from here, Kuroo." 

The captain, in the same sweat-drenched training shirt, turned to look at you so menacingly and tried to hold that expression for more than five seconds. He _couldn't_ do it. 

"You really Pavlov Dogged your way into everyone's hearts so easily," he said with a shrug. "Otome, are you—"

"Tetsurou, you need to wipe down your sweat because you're gonna catch a cold," you handed him your own face towel from your skirt pocket, a tiny pink square that made him purse his lips as you placed it in his open palm. "And don't laugh at it! It may not be enough for you, but it's more than enough for me!" 

Kuroo's laughter couldn't be helped since the towel really wasn't enough for him, but the faint curl of your lips to a smile made him pause his wiping and rumbling. "Something on your mind?"

"Nothing much, really. I just realised how much I like taking care of you, Tetsurou," you beamed at him. "And I also like taking care of them." 

"I can take care of you real good if you want me to, Otome."

The mischief in his smile was hard to miss, but so was the innuendo he slipped into your conversation so smoothly. His suggestive quips were still something you were trying to get used to even though he's been saying a lot of those ever since you started dating in your first year. A smirk graced his face, possibly because he was so pleased with your flustered reaction. Heat rose to your cheeks as he folded your damp face towel and gently placed it back in your smaller hands. 

"K..." The look on your face and the sound that left your mouth was so little, but it was enough to catch the rest of the club's attention. "Kuroo says Lev-kun can have his energy pack!"

Kuroo flinched at your remark. "O-Oi! I didn't—" 

"Hoo! Thanks, Kuroo-san!" Came the grateful declaration from the younger player.

You uttered a quick farewell to the club and stuck your tongue out at the captain as you made your way out of the gymnasium, his figure trailing behind you closely. A cool afternoon wind met your retreating figure, but you felt a large hand gently pull you back by your wrist. 

"Tetsurou, if you really want to take care of me..." you looked up at him, batting your lashes at him a few times until the annoyance in his face faded away. "Maybe teach me some maths?"

A soft sigh left his mouth as he raised a warm, callused hand to your nape, his thumb brushing against your jaw. "Sure thing, sweet thing." 

"Cheer up, my big tomcat. I'll bring you an energy pack tomorrow." 

The tender way he held you made you want to bask in his touch a bit more and you didn't even notice him leaning down to kiss you on your cheek because of your preoccupation in your own thoughts. You may never get used to his slightly perverted remarks any time soon, but the soft chuckle that left his lips after he heard you squeak was something you absolutely _adored._

"T-Tetsu—" 

"Make that two," he said before closing the gymnasium door behind him. "And don't be late!" 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I wrote some notes for readers! (I don't really have much to say lol.) The title of this collection comes from "Glittering Sea", an absolute bop by re:plus x Yusuke Shima. It sounds like a good summer beach theme and y'all know Kuroo loves the beach. Give it a listen and miss the summer and seas with me. 
> 
> Talk to me on Twitter/Curious Cat @quirklessbeauty and tell me something good!


	3. The Sun in September || Sakusa Kiyoomi

**The Sun in September**

\-- ✿ --

**_Her Eyes The Stars_ [Fantasy/Royalty/Reincarnation AU] **

_It was the year 18XX._

Sakusa Kiyoomi was nothing less of a prodigy. 

Unfortunately for his large noble family, his father adored him and his siblings greatly despite being born out of wedlock. 

While he was deemed a young princeling of no great significance to their large noble family, which happened to be the last of their kind, there was no denying he had the right smarts and talents that could lead to its complete revival. The wars that have broken out in the years prior did little to sunder their family's dream of once again becoming a hegemon among the still-existing blue bloods of their time. 

The young princeling, dark-haired and dark-eyed, then became his house's young master— a title he found no real comfort or confidence in since it was thrust to him so suddenly. He was spirited away to a large riverside villa where he would work day in and day out with silence and solitude as his only companions. His siblings were granted the occasional chance to visit him, along with their favourite cousin Komori. 

Children as they were in the eyes of the selfish adults of their family, they knew exactly what it was they were planning— plans to hail the young man as a potential new leader in the emerging new age.

And if all else were to fail, they would pin the blame on him. 

He would be the morning star. He would be the sacrificial lamb. 

It was a truth Sakusa learned to live with, just like everything else in his life. 

On one particular visit, Komori had brought with him a young woman who would help in managing the riverside villa since he knew his cousin already had a handful of papers to worry about. 

"Good day to you, my lord. My name is Otome," you lowered your eyes as you gathered your long skirts and managed a curtsy to your new master. "Lord Motoya has acquired my services in helping you manage your estate. You may consider me your assistant..."

The young master of the villa gave you one look before finally returning his sight to the parchment on his desk that were brought to him earlier by another servant from the main house. You could tell that he was worn out from work by the dark circles under his coal-black eyes and the way his bright-coloured cravat came undone as he craned his neck. 

"Tea, please," came his short order. "And please use the glass pot, not the silver one. You'll be able to find the tea leaves in the third cupboard." 

It didn't take long for you to return with the glass teapot filled with fragrant liquid copper and petals of a crimson flower along with a single glass teacup and a plate of biscuits. You placed the tray of tea on an empty spot on his dark wooden desk that was strewn with sheets of parchment.

"Thank you," he told you. "You say you're a helper of sorts, right? Maybe clean the vacant rooms or something. Please keep yourself preoccupied. No need for you to wait on me." 

"Of course, my lord," you gave him a bow before leaving his study to exactly what he said. You soon came to realise that there really wasn't much left to clean in the estate since it was kept impeccably tidy by the young master himself.

He was undoubtedly spooked when he first found you singing to yourself in the kitchen, obviously still so unused to living with another person in his large home. He found his tea much sweeter, too, but he couldn't find the time nor the energy to reprimand you about how much of a distraction you had been to him.

Your presence was something Sakusa learned to deal with as days went on. Oddly enough, he found the subtle sound you added to the emptiness of the grand villa somewhat soothing, but it may be too soon for him to say that. He found a bit of relief in the soft _swooshing_ and rustling of your long skirts as you walked around him in his study, ever so careful not to disturb him from whatever it was he was reading or writing. 

"My lord?" 

Your voice cut through his reverie and he realised that he had been staring a tad bit longer than he expected himself to be. 

"Here is your afternoon tea," you smiled at him, placing the tray of tea and biscuits on the usually-empty spot on his wooden desk. 

Surely enough, the scent of the fragrant tea eased his weary head, but he was surprised to see a small plate of snacks he hasn't been served before. 

"What... are these?" 

"Sundried fruits, my lord. They're a good source of proteins and vitamins. I thought they would go well with the biscuits and tea you often have every afternoon."

"I... see," he took one of the dried plums and carefully examined it. "Where exactly did these come from?"

"Oh, they were sent by my mother," you stated rather happily. "She knows I love these and I— Ah, I apologise for being presumptuous, my lord. I'll take them away if you wish—" 

"Ah, they're actually kind of sweet," the brunet replied thoughtfully as he chewed through the fruit. "And yes, they do go well with tea."

"I'm very glad you like them, my lord."

His lips curved to a smile as you poured him a cup of tea, the curling steam reminiscent of his own dark hair. "Thank you, Otome."

Komori came over a few days later and presented you with a new dress. 

It was the colour of dried plums and aged wine and it made your heart flutter when you lifted it out of the box to see its entirety. 

"It's actually from Kiyoomi," he told you with a smile. "He did tell me not to tell you, but I suppose there's no harm in letting you know that your master appreciates you and what you do for him."

"It is my pleasure, of course."

You were surprised when the young man gave you a short bow. "I must thank you for taking good care of him and the estate, Otome. I'm truly grateful and I'm sure Kiyoomi is as well."

You weren't entirely sure why the young men were grateful, but you started to notice some changes in the way your master related to you. 

Sakusa, who left his study mere moments ago, found your little wooden embroidery table with a half-finished print of a dark flower and threads of various colours spilling from the cloth and the tiny tin you used to hold all of your materials together. 

While the place sounded completely empty to him, he was relieved to hear your familiar humming coming from the kitchen. You spotted him from your peripheral vision and managed a smile. 

"Oh, good day, my lord," you gave the distant figure a quick bow before returning to what you were doing at the kitchen counter. "I will bring your tea upstairs in just a moment."

He blinked at you and you could tell that he was more well-rested now compared to when you first saw him. He had a rather mystified look on his face that quickly snapped back to his normal dour expression when you gently called out to him. "My lord Kiyoomi?"

"Otome," he started, a smile playing on his lips. "Have tea with me in the garden."

The riverside villa's garden was the only part of the house that neither you nor the young master had any hand at taking care of, its maintenance left to experienced gardeners and landscapers who also worked at the family's main house. 

"I guess the rose does add a different flavour to the tea."

The chuckle that left your young master's lips was something you never heard until now. He was every bit of cold and elegant like what Lord Motoya had told you and looked even more ethereal under the afternoon sun. 

"The dress..." Sakusa stated. "It looks very nice on you. As I expected."

You sat across him on as you shared tea on the sole garden table for two. "I thank you for it very much, my lord. Lord Motoya, he—"

"I know my cousin can keep a secret, but I didn't expect this one to stay as such," he replied, gently blowing on the steam swirling above his teacup. 

Now that you had an even better look at him, you drank in his fine features— the darkness of his curly hair, a finely chiselled jawline, coal-black eyes that had a curious shine to it and a pair of moles that were rather pleasantly placed above his right eye. 

"You should draw a portrait," he said. "It will last longer."

His quip made you self-conscious all of a sudden, your eyes suddenly dropping to your hands, which were placed on your lap neatly.

"You aren't drinking your tea, Otome."

"Ah, I-I was just waiting for it to cool for a bit, my lord."

From what you could tell, he was taking in your features as well, a smile gracing his face every now and then, especially when he took a sip of tea and a bite of the sundried fruits you shared with him. 

"Otome," he started. "I realised only now that I know nothing about you except that you have an eye for the textile arts. Tell me about yourself because I'm sure you've heard all about the troubling rumours surrounding the master you serve."

"Rumours, my lord?" You tilted your head, completely oblivious to what he just stated. "I, um... No, I don't really know anything about you and your family. I didn't really bother asking as well. You're not a serial killer, that I know for sure."

The line that formed your master's lips slowly melded into a curve which he tried to conceal by taking another sip of tea from his already empty cup.

"My mother was formerly a maid from a noble family. She, ah... When the family found out that she was with child, who was fathered by the young lord of their house, no less, she was chased out of the home and was eventually taken in by a local dressmaker. You could say I was quite an unwanted child, but my mother raised me regardless... I do love her and I'm proud of what she has done and had to overcome for me."

"So your embroidery..."

"Ah, yes. While I enjoy making my embroidered flowers, my mother and I make a good penny from it as well. The dressmaker who took us in pays us for every design sold."

"But how did you end up being a housekeeper?"

"Lord Motoya had made inquiries. He was looking for someone who knew basic household chores and preferred someone who didn't really speak much. My mother was originally recommended to work here, but I couldn't really bear the thought of her returning to a nobleman's home... Not after what happened to her before."

"I see."

You took the warm teacup in your hands, averting your gaze from his own eyes. 

"You're quite beautiful," Sakusa stated as he poured himself another cup of tea. "And you know your way around a house. I'm sure you're bound to find a good husband for yourself. Someone who will take good care of you as well."

"I... see," you replied, trying not to show any hint of disappointment in your voice. 

"One of these days..." The young master of the house stared wistfully at the river expanse you both had no idea of its ending and beginning. "My family will find me a woman to wed and bed. And I can only hope that she will be devoted to taking care of me just as you are. Though I doubt any city girl would last here, seeing how quiet this place is."

That one afternoon was something you cherished, especially since you knew that it may never happen again. The days that followed were the same peaceful and quiet ones you marked off your calendar, but you found your master chattering a bit more than usual whenever you shared meals. 

The fairly calm week was interrupted by a very happy Komori, who had brought at least two bottles of wine for him to drink with his cousin.

The afternoon sun was still high when Lord Motoya arrived with wine and cheese from their family home. You had attended to them before returning to your embroidery table once again, ensuring they had everything they needed after leaving the room. Every now and then, you would be startled by the visiting lord's rambunctious laughter, obviously wine-induced, but you paid no mind to it, continuously threading away throughout the whole afternoon. 

By dusk fall, Komori had already taken his leave, bidding you farewell with a short bow and instructions on how you would care for his cousin, who you found completely wasted on one of the settees in his study. 

"My lord Kiyoomi? You might catch a cold if you don't change out of your damp clothes," you started, carefully slipping an arm under his larger form to lift him up. He was incredibly warm. "I've drawn a bath for you so you can refresh yourself. Please—"

Sakusa let out an annoyed grunt, eyebrows knotted rather angrily when he felt himself being touched without his permission. "Motoya, you know I don't like it when—"

He opened his eyes and found that you were completely unsure how to proceed now that he was awake. 

"My apologies, my lord," you gently unhanded him as he sat up, a slender hand rubbing circles on his temples. 

"Damn that Motoya... I... I apologise for being such a pain right now, Otome."

"Nonsense, my lord," you replied with a smile. "It is my duty to take care of you and meet your every need."

"Every need..." He echoed, obviously droning out because of the alcohol in his system. "Come now, you shouldn't say that when there are certain needs of mine that can't be met."

A warm hand gripped your wrist and hastily pulled you down to the settee, your hair and long skirt caught in your drunken master's grasp. 

"Ah—"

"I don't understand. I'm to be married off in a few days yet your existence is the only thing keeping me sane. I hate it. I can't bear the thought of having to part from you—"

You trembled in his embrace and couldn't even turn your head to face him, but he sat there quietly, his warm forehead resting on your shoulder. 

_He's to be married in a few days,_ you told yourself what he just confirmed mere moments ago. The quiet, blissful days you look forward to in this riverside villa are coming to an end now and there was nothing you could do about it. 

The days in which you would hear your young master's low laughter were numbered now and it made your chest hurt. 

"I will weep for us both, then, my lord. For the days we wished were ours instead," you murmured, gently turning your head to meet his eyes, where the glow of the golden candlelight was reflected. 

"You will do no such thing," he replied, taking your chin in his hand. "If I may... I simply want to love you now, Otome."

You really didn't have much of a say about how the night was spent after his lips crashed onto yours, but words didn't matter at that time. His hands were warm and you could tell that he was struggling to undress you from the way he patiently clawed at the strings of your bodice, eliciting laughter from you which he delighted himself in. 

The gentle way in which he held you made you cry, but every sound you made was stifled with a kiss that made you tear up even more. 

"I will look for the stars in everyone's eyes until I find our galaxy in yours once again," he breathed, brushing warm knuckles over your even-warmer cheek. "I don't want this night to end at all."

As if a wish unheard, you smiled at him, tears falling once again as orange sunlight peeked through the draperies. "Find me in the future, my love. We will have one where we don't have to part ways ever."

When the day finally broke, Sakusa had finally decided to head to his childhood home and relinquish his claim and title, to give up every stake he had in their family's fortune all for a simpler life with you. There was simply nothing more he could ask for.

He had plotted a roadmap earlier on about what course he should take to ensure they had a good future ahead of them, but his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the screaming and shouting he heard coming from downstairs. 

"Aunty, please! Let go of her! She—"

Sakusa recognised his cousin's shouting, followed by his brother and sister's own raised voices. "Mother, please! You—"

_Mother,_ the panic bubbled in his throat as he hastily descended the grand staircase. Their birth mother had died giving birth to him, one less pest for the main family to worry about. The older woman before them looked nothing like him and his siblings. _She's not my mother._

No mother would hold the woman her son loves like _that_ — a vice grip on your hair as you were forced down on your knees. 

"You—"

His siblings and Komori gave chase to their stepmother and aunt via horseback, their steeds running across the vast garden space. 

"Motoya was right about how well-rested you are now, princeling," the older woman stated through tired and thin lips. "I suppose you have this little thing to thank."

"Let go of her."

"Whatever happens to her, you have your cousin to thank. If he had kept his drunken blabbermouth shut, things wouldn't have had to come to this."

"I didn't mean to say it, Kiyoomi," Komori shook his head from across the room. "You and I know I would never let this happen."

"And yet it slipped from his mouth so curiously," the older woman retorted. "You plan on running away with this _vermin?_ For what? Remember that you owe our family a lot for letting you live so comfortably." 

It _stung._ Oh, your scalp burned at every tug the matron made. You knew nothing of the troubling rumours your master had alluded to before, but this was probably one of them.

"It's either you give up your _stupid_ fantasies or I'll make sure this girl never sees the light of day ever again, Kiyoomi."

Everything that followed went too fast for you to even think. Sakusa had forcefully pushed his stepmother to the floor before pulling you out of the estate. He hastily sat you on one of his siblings' horses before climbing up and speeding away, tears in his eyes as the cool morning breeze swam across your faces. 

He told you to take your mother and move out of the town because he knows his stepmother will do everything in her power to crush every bit of happiness he could ever hope to attain. 

You left the town with a bag of coins and your mother in tow, but you know you had left behind so much more. 

In the end, Sakusa's wedding to an unknown bride went through, his stepmother promising your own safety in exchange for his complete obedience. Their family had secured their own position as one of the country's elites just as they had planned, all at his expense.

_How cruel had the fates been to him?_ _—_ His mere existence was a thorn on his family's side. His talents were a curse. The only person he may have ever loved more than himself was ripped away from his arms so forcefully. Had he known this were to happen, he would have just shut himself away from the whole world. 

But he couldn't do that now. _Not now._ Not when he had a promise to fulfil to a love that was lost to him even before he could fully grasp it. 

His wife was as cold and callous as he was and he couldn't even be bothered to show any form of affection to her. Not when she looked at him with so much disdain. 

Their marriage remained unconsummated and he returned to his riverside villa, penning away the story of a love that was once his in hopes of finding it again.

_"I will look for the stars in everyone's eyes until I find our galaxy in yours once again."_

In the year 196X, Sakusa awoke in the body of a young physician tending to an elderly war widow whose husband never came back from the still ongoing Vietnam War. Your vision had failed along with every other organ in your body. 

"My husband wasn't everything I ever wished for, but he was kind. Never hurt me, never treated me unjustly. He was every bit of the good husband every woman wanted for themselves," you stated, twiddling with the soft flower petal that had fallen in your palms from the slowly withering bouquet on the bedside table. "I wasn't unhappy with him, but... I wasn't completely happy, either." 

The young doctor almost dismissed your words as the blathering of a senile old woman, but he was moved to tears when he heard you speak again.

"My heart... It longed for that person..." you carried on. "The one I promised a future with where we won't have to be apart... He had... two moons over his eye and the saddest smile I've ever seen. I..."

Warm hands gripped your own and you were mildly surprised when the young doctor spoke to you. 

"We will meet again," his voice quivered. "Our promise still stands."

_Oh,_ you've heard this voice before from a distant time. "Of course... My dear love... I'll be waiting."

It brought a smile to your lips as you breathed your last breath. 

Now that he knew you were waiting on the other side, Sakusa simply had to live again. 

In the year 201X, at the height of his volleyball career, the prodigy player Sakusa Kiyoomi was invited by his older brother to his most recent photo exhibition. He and his siblings were known for many things, most especially the different career paths they took. His older brother became a professional photographer while his older sister became a fashion model. 

While he disliked being in the spotlight, his love for the game thrust him into it even more, so much that he had to hire someone to manage the gifts he receives from his fans.

He made his way to the Tokyo show his older brother hosted during one of his days off and was surprised to find the gallery completely empty, his brother's photos the only things there. 

Sakusa found quite a number of his photos there as well, mostly stolen shots by his older brother, but a certain one caught his eye so much that he paused from his browsing to take a closer look at it. 

The photo was titled _"Her Eyes The Stars"_ , and it featured a young woman in a dress the same colour as dried plums and aged wine, twirling around a sunlit garden in what appeared to be the countryside. The smile on her face made his heart race so much that he became so unconscious of his surroundings. _Where was his brother now and how did he meet her?_

It was the same smile that kept him grounded so many lifetimes ago, the same one that kept the fire of his hope alive, the same one he tried so desperately to find in this lifetime and the next one to come. 

"Are you... crying?"

The voice he heard snapped him back to reality, his head whipping to his side where he found the woman in the photograph standing right beside him. You fished for a pack of tissue in your purse and offered it to him. 

"You—"

As much as you wanted to tease him for such a show of emotion, you found your eyes welling up with tears as well. 

"Have you found it?" You smiled at him. "The galaxy you've been searching for."

He kept on doing it— looking into people's eyes until he finds something, only to fail again and again— until now. He saw the gentle twinkle of tears and light in your eyes before finally taking you into his arms. 

"Yes, I've found it," he replied, swallowing his sobs as he felt you wrap your arms around him as well. "I... finally, I..."

He didn't care if he had to spend every lifetime of his chasing the galaxy in people's eyes because he was certain now that you would definitely find yours and again _and again,_ and that was enough to keep him running after stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of these ficlets are based on the songs "The Sun in September" by Matthee Halsall and "Her Eyes the Stars" by Luchs, the latter which I find a fitting theme song for the ficlet seeing as it's based in the 19th century. 
> 
> (Sakusa brainrot go brrrt hehe) 
> 
> Talk to me on Twitter @quirklessbeauty! (•‿•)


	4. Neon Sunsets || Miya Atsumu

**Neon Sunsets**

\-- ✿ --

_**Parkside in Bloom** _

It wasn't really narcolepsy. 

You had the most awful habit of falling asleep in the strangest places, but it wasn't like you wanted to disappear on purpose. You'd wake up to a barrage of worried text messages from your boyfriend, his twin brother, Aran-san, Kita-san and the rest of their team. Heck, if Atsumu could get the mayor of the city to call for a search party, he'd do just _that._ _(You were worried about that bit, though, since he definitely had the right influence that made such a thing possible.)_

While you believed Miya Atsumu to be the paradox in your relationship, he and everyone else surrounding you thought you were the bigger puzzle, particularly your odd habit of falling asleep so, so easily. Your boyfriend thought it was cute at first whenever you accidentally leave him on read without even telling him where you were. Atsumu knew by then that you had fallen asleep somewhere and you didn't even bother telling him. Or anyone at all. The times you disappeared still outweigh the times he managed to find you. 

The scales have tipped in your favour once more.

It was autumn and the winds of change have swept through most of Amagasaki. The Inarizaki Boys' Volleyball Club has been training harder ahead of the Spring Interhigh in Tokyo. From your perspective, the boys have always been in their best, tip-top form. They were thorough in their own ways and were greatly influenced by their captain's presence and way of life— at least when they're talking about volleyball.

Additional training for Atsumu meant more free time for you since he wouldn't be around to pester you. You did say you would keep yourself preoccupied, but work in the Literature Club was so light that you had way more time in your hands at such a perfect time to be just... downright _lazy._

Autumn meant cooler afternoons, _which were just perfect for naps._

The gated traditional house you and your family inherited from ancestors had the loveliest and loneliest ginkgo tree that was planted many, many years ago. It stood in the corner of the compound, shedding its golden leaves like raining sunshine across the whole courtyard. Your parents and the housekeepers found it a pain to sweep away seeing as the leaves will continue to fall throughout the rest of the year. By mid-November, you couldn't see even a smidge of the ground you walked on because the entire estate was covered in golden leaves. After slipping out of your school uniform and into the lightest and comfiest dress you could find, there was nothing left to do but simply doze off. 

Your mother probably didn't hear you tell her that you'd be reading at the courtyard, just under the ginkgo, because she was worked up in such a panicked frenzy later that afternoon that she ended up calling Atsumu, saying you just vanished from your house without a word. 

Not that you knew about all that panic, though, seeing how peacefully you slept under your family's ancient ginkgo tree. 

You had spent a good 20 minutes reading one of your club mate's material before succumbing to the coolness of the afternoon breeze, accompanied by the gentle dancing of the golden leaves that rained over you soundlessly. _Soothingly._

For the record, Atsumu managed this disappearance of yours in a much calmer manner compared to when you two first started going out in your first year. He searched the Literature Club room, the library, the art room— _all the places you frequented—_ before turning to his teammates to start a text brigade. 

Kita-san reprimanded you about your habit once, noting it was such a dangerous thing to keep on doing. He told you to get enough sleep everyday so you wouldn't go falling asleep wherever and whenever you sat down somewhere. That was the strange thing, though. You always got the right amount of sleep, but it always came so easy for you. Ever since then, you'd make it a habit to fall asleep in places where you could be easily found— by Atsumu, at least. He would find you and he would calm the fuck down. You'd get an earful after that, too, but you were grateful he didn't love you any less. 

Atsumu was a dick to the world but a sweetheart to his girl— Not that it made him any less of a dick, but he loved you— _gods,_ he really did. So much that he would flip the whole city upside-down to find you because _where the fuck were you sleeping, you careless little_ —

You were awoken by running footsteps approaching your figure, still half-buried underneath the golden ginkgo leaves that had fallen over you earlier. 

"Otome! There you are!"

The blonde could only sigh in defeat. Atsumu was still in his tracksuit, which could only mean he rushed out to meet your mother and panic with her. He bent down and indeed saw you half-buried in ginkgo leaves that he almost mistook you for a pile. You managed a small smile before finally beckoning him to lie down beside you. 

The tall boy obliged, seeing as there was nothing else he could do now. Atsumu gently slid beside you and was about to speak when he felt something under his figure. He hastily pulled out the material you were reading earlier from under his side. 

You turned to face him before he could even speak, slipping your arms under his own to pull him into an embrace. "Shall I message you the next time I fall asleep somewhere?"

His arms coiled around your figure instantaneously, another sigh of relief leaving his lips as he brushed his cheek against your hair. "Yes, please. I'm so tired I don't even have enough energy to get mad at ya."

"Like you could ever do that," you replied cheekily, burying your nose on the crook of his neck. His grip around you tightened as his breathing finally relaxed. 

"Yeah, I can see why you'd fall asleep here," he said, gently picking out a leaf that was caught in your hair. "But honestly, though. Fall asleep somewhere I can see you easily. You already know that. If some other guy found ya, who knows what they'd do?"

"Come on. Everyone knows the second year Otome is already happily taken by—" you slightly raised the pitch of your voice. " _—Japan's number one high school setter!_ And the worst thing they could ever do is leave flowers by my side as though I were already dead." 

"I almost thought you did this on purpose, ya know. Since we haven't been talking and hanging out much," he stated rather thoughtfully. "But I guess you don't really miss me that much, huh?"

"I didn't ask you to date me, Miya Atsumu. You waltzed into my life and ruined it with a single smile," you replied, gently tickling his side until he keeled over in laughter. "However, I'd gladly let you do it again. Just as long as you keep on finding me, I guess."

\-- ✿ --

_**Grow Fonder**_

Higashiosaka was just an hour away from Amagasaki. 

You knew that much because that's just how long it took Atsumu to fall into your arms after he sent you his ' _on my way home'_ message. 

You considered yourself pretty blessed that your boyfriend lived in a city just an hour away from where you were, especially after hearing how the other girls in the local women's college you attended complained about how time and distance made their boyfriends go cold on them. You listed all the telltale signs and tried to point out if the same things were happening in your relationship. 

It's been a year since Atsumu was recruited into the MSBY Black Jackals and he's still the same _adorkable_ clingy boyfriend you've had ever since you were both first years at Inarizaki. 

Time or distance were petty things to argue about with him and cheating was definitely out of the question since you were both pretty busy with your individual lives to even entertain the thought of meeting other people. _("And it's such a hassle to explain to the media," you recall him saying.)_

Even as you spent most of the year apart, you never felt any less loved by your dearest boyfriend. Atsumu was always so happy to see you whenever he came home to Amagasaki, but he was even more thrilled whenever it was you coming over to see him during your college breaks. The first time you came over to visit him at their headquarters, he had presented you to nearly everyone in the team and even had to hold in his chuckles as you craned your head to greet them all. They commented on how you were actually _real_ and not just some make-believe girlfriend from their setter's high school life. You knew they were joking about the whole thing, but Atsumu felt so triumphant that you couldn't bring yourself to burst his bubble. 

He was excused by the team when he didn't come back to HQ that evening as well since he had to spend _real_ time with his _very real_ girlfriend. 

When he brought you to Aramoto Station the day after, he didn't let go of your hand until it was time for you to board the train. You recall him saying, _"Well, I introduced ya to my team. We can't break up now that they're so invested in our relationship."_

_..._ Not that they were really interested in what was going on between the two of you, but you were glad they were nice and were undoubtedly good teammates to your boyfriend. 

The next morning, Bokuto-san had followed you on Twitter and even tweeted about the omiyage you brought for them over the weekend.

_@msby_b.koutarou12 is now following you!_

Oh.

_'Thank you so much for the treats, @otome!'_ read the start of the tweet, followed by a photo of him, Inunaki-san and Sakusa-san holding up the brightly-wrapped sweets, all smiles save for the one wearing a mask over his mouth. _'Looking forward to your next visit! PS: You should bring a separate present for @msby_m.atsumu13 bc he ate nearly everything.'_

Only a very little part of the world knew that Miya Atsumu was still dating his high school sweetheart _(and that he adored her oh, so very much)_ , so that was an entirely different spotlight you were suddenly thrust into. It took a while to get used to, but after being seen in a number of your boyfriend's silly, kissy social media posts, you figured it was a small price to pay to keep him happy. _(His fangirls were unhappy, though, but not that you really cared.)_ He knew that you got a kick out of annoying them so much by posting photos _of_ him and _with_ him with cheesy captions like _'six feet and two inches and all mine'_ _—_ and he loved it as well. 

From across the house, you heard your mother greet your visitor as he entered the gates of your family compound. "Welcome home, Atsumu-kun! How have you been?"

You scrambled to your feet, almost slipping on the tatami floor as you rushed out of your bedroom and into your boyfriend's eager arms. "Welcome home, you big baby!"

Atsumu was still in his team tracksuit, meaning he rushed to see you the soonest he got back in town. He lifted you off the ground so effortlessly and the laughter that left your lips was far too high-pitched that it only meant you were extremely thrilled. Your mother had disappeared back into the house along with the rest of your family who gladly took off with the omiyage that Atsumu had in his hands earlier. 

"Did you hear your mom? She said _welcome home, Atsumu!_ Does that mean they're actually warming up to me?!" 

"Mama has always liked you, _aho._ It was papa who warned me about not falling for slovenly boys like the Miya twins," you chuckled as you felt him rest his chin on the crown of your head. "But I think he's finally warming up to the idea of me dating you because I've seen him check out your games. And I know you bought that delectable cheesecake from _Rikuro Ojisan_ for him, too."

"Ah, wonderful," he let out a sigh of relief. "Should we get married now?!"

"Don't push your luck, Miya!" you nudged him, the widest smile on your lips as he dove down to plant a kiss on your cheek. 

"Oh, right! The other day, Inu-san had to..."

You smiled at him, listening to him prattle about whatever was happening with his team as you made your way inside your house. Your hands knew where to find his own and he would hold onto yours so easily, _just like clockwork._ Months apart and an hour away from him, but it's like you were never so far from each other at all. 

\-- ✿ --

_**Covet** _

Everyone knows that the sleepy second year girl is happily taken by Japan's number one high school setter.

Your relationship goes back a year from now, when you were both first years. Atsumu had found you asleep nearby while he was closing up the gym, book in your hand but your head definitely in dreamland. It wasn't your intention, but you had overslept and woke up at dusk fall, which was way beyond the afternoon time limit you set for yourself.

You walked home together that one time and became fast friends afterwards. He would catch you at the cafeteria and drop a milk box or juice box in your hands from time to time. _("Y'know, to keep you awake, aho," he once told you.)_ On other days, it was one of Osamu's experimental onigiris. Some days, it would be two or three jelly fruit sticks he obviously nabbed from Suna. His loud laughter whenever he'd tell you a stupid joke would draw everyone's attention to you both until he was unwillingly dragged away by his twin for their next class. 

There were rumours spreading around about Atsumu being a heartbreaker, but you thought it was already given seeing as he was popular and had a lot of admirers around him. You never quite understood why he wouldn't date anyone, though. Apart from volleyball and classes, there was nothing else in between for him. 

...except there was something. Or _someone._ Because that's what he'd been telling the girls who confessed to him...

Not that it was any of your business, but if he were seeing someone while also hanging out with you, it would pose a problem because you didn't want any jealous girlfriend on your tail, especially when you just wanted to sleep in peace. 

_"I think we should stop hanging out with each other too much."_

You recalled how red his face went after you told him that while you were on your way home together one time. 

_"One of the girls from my class said you rejected her because you were already seeing someone. Now I don't wanna be caught up in some vicious love triangle, Miya. You of all people should know that I value my quiet life and I just want to sleep and write in peace—"_

_"Man, are ya dumb or what?!"_

_"What?! Why am I suddenly the dumb one here?!"_

_"Because you are!"_

You stared at each other angrily, red-faced and ready to shout again before he finally let out a sigh of defeat. 

_"Otome, ya really don't get it, do ya?"_

_"G-Get what?"_

When you arrived back home, it was your mother who opened the gate for you, and she was caught entirely by surprise when Atsumu bowed down before her and formally _(and nervously)_ asked if he could start dating you. 

(Apparently, your mother and his mother knew each other since they were both part of the same local tea club, so he pretty much had her approval from the get go.)

The fact that _you_ were what was in between his volleyball and classes made you absolutely self-conscious. You had asked him to keep it a secret for the meantime until just recently...

What was supposed to be an unconfirmed rumour finally came to light on your second year, when Atsumu first came to your homeroom to join you for lunch. Seeing him there surprised your classmates, particularly Suna, who jokingly raised the question of dating at his teammate. 

"Huh? Yeah, we're dating." 

It slipped out of the setter's mouth so smoothly and easily that it completely gave away how long the two of you have been going out. 

It was no surprise that some of the girls at school considered you some kind of odd bird when word came out that you were Atsumu's mystery girlfriend. Whispers and murmurs were afloated a lot when the other girls from your class thought you weren't around. 

_"Maybe he likes prudes?"_

_"...a sheltered girl from a traditional family..."_

_"He found her asleep near the gyms. She probably waited for him out there and..."_

Locker room talk like this was rampant and it definitely put a dent on your peaceful school life. Yes, somehow every aspect of your relationship with your boyfriend was whispered about, passed around like notes in class. Atsumu was popular in his own right and was often the subject of things you wished you never heard. Things you wished you could shut your ears to. 

_"Ah, I wish he dated me instead. I'd give him such a good time."_

And while you were completely dense to his feelings at first, you knew exactly what the other girls meant when they talked about giving him a good time. 

You didn't have the nerves of steel that other girls did when it came to such perverted talk, but you had an iron will to change how such words were being thrown around you so casually. Especially since they were talking about your boyfriend.

Saturdays meant half-day training for the volleyball club and Atsumu found himself invited to your house at the most convenient and curious time. He arrived there still in his club tracksuit, obviously not thinking much about the invitation, but he looked rather unnerved when you opened the gates for him in that airy pale blue sundress with the ribboned straps resting on your shoulders. He followed you in soundlessly as he looked around the compound, looking to greet your family.

"It's unusually quiet here today. Where's your mom and aunts?"

He had taken his seat on the tatami floor of your spacious bedroom, training bag set aside on one corner. 

"There's no one else here," you told him, shutting the sliding doors behind you. 

"Oh."

You stared at each other for a solid minute, faces slowly turning red at the prospect of finally being able to spend an hour or two completely alone with each other.

"D-Don't stare at me, _aho!_ " You started, cheeks obviously flushed as you stomped towards him. 

A chuckle left his lips, a grin finally appearing as he stretched out his hand to reach for you. You gently slid your hand into his and felt yourself be pulled down beside him. Surprisingly, you both let out sighs of relief at the same time, but he could tell that yours was definitely out of defeat. 

"Are ya finally gonna tell me what's going on, sweet thing?" 

There was no way he could make himself small, even as he sat before you, broad shoulders slightly hunched so he could meet your gaze. 

"I'm sure you're aware that you and your brother are pretty popular at school. Everyone was caught by surprise when they found out that we've been dating for quite a while now."

"Yeah, I know that. Are ya hearing any troubling things?"

He reached out to caress your cheek, callused fingers brushing over the warmth of your face. You lowered your eyes, avoiding his gaze as you pursed your lips. 

"Sex talk makes you uncomfortable, huh? Especially when it's me they're talking about," he said. "I don't think there's much we can do about that. Ya know how people will still talk about whatever they want."

"I... I don't like hearing how other girls think they can give you a good time. It's annoying," you stated, another sigh of defeat leaving your lips. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't let their words get to me, but it really leaves a bad taste in my mouth whenever I have to play deaf to their words."

"A good... time? Like what? They gonna receive my sets or something?" He said with a laugh as he pulled you into his arms. "Whatever they say won't change the fact that it's you I want."

He couldn't see how your lips curved upward as your cheek collided with his collar. "I love you."

The softness of the way you spoke those words made him tense up for a moment, but he smiled as your eyes met again. "You really put one hell of a love spell on me, ya know." 

From where you sat, gently cradled in his arms, you could see why other girls seethed at you in jealousy. His brown eyes drank in your every feature like you were the only thing worth looking at in the world. 

"Do you want to, uh, kiss or something?" You asked him, observing the expression on his face. "I mean we've kissed before, but not the, uh..."

"Yeah, I think I get why Samu called this a tasty situation," Atsumu chuckled to himself once again, as he finally came to terms with something. "Sure, sweet thing."

He shifted his sitting position as he gently hoisted you onto his lap while you moved to straddle him, hands on his shoulders. 

"Perfect," he stated, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. "All yours."

The boy was smiling as you kissed, obviously delighted with the little sounds you made as your lips moved in sync with his. His hands made their way to your waist and he could feel you trembling. 

_Ah._

The heat coursing through your body shot up to your head and you hesitantly pulled away from the kiss as you felt callused fingers gently sliding under your skirt, part of which had already pooled around your waist. 

"I-Is that your... S-Something's poking my butt."

"Yeah, that's definitely mine," he replied with a lazy grin, holding your gaze. "You don't see anyone else here now, do ya?"

"Right, uh..." You stammered, head too hazy to form a coherent sentence. "Can... Can I move closer? C-Can I move?" 

"Stop asking questions, babe, just— _Tch._ "

A low growl through clenched teeth left his mouth as he felt your hands paw at the bulge under his immaculately white track pants, antsy fingers gently shifting the twitching length before sitting down on him, your crotch rubbing against his erection. His fingers sank into your waist as you slowly started rocking your hips against him.

You told yourself that this was the farthest you could go for now, seeing as it took so much courage for you to even start this conversation. 

And yet, you couldn't help but applaud yourself for this little achievement, especially after seeing the look of resolve wash away from your boyfriend's face, his expression a mixture of both frustration and pleasure. You coiled your arms around his neck and dove in for an open-mouthed kiss which he met so eagerly. 

The afternoon heat and your exchange of heavy breaths made your head go cloudy. Your mind was so fogged that you didn't even realise the soft moans slipping out of your lips and how your hips moved so erratically. Atsumu was staring at your face through half-lidded eyes, a heady, absent-minded smile on his face as he tried to pace his own movement, his fingers digging into your thighs as his own hips instinctively thrust upward. 

You felt a warmth pool at the pit of your stomach, the buzzing in your head blocking out everything save for the electrifying pleasure you shared with your boyfriend. Atsumu felt hotter than usual, most probably due to his black training shirt taking in all of his body heat and part of yours as well. 

"Ngh... I l-love you so much— ah!"

Your words were drawled out and garbled, but the smile on his face only meant he understood what you said, but he was more focused on the way your body tensed up. You threw your head back as a sharp cry of pleasure escaped your lips, your movements finally slowing to a halt. He rested his forehead on your shoulder and you swore you heard him curse under his breath. You felt his shoulders tense up as well, your fingers gently raking the hair just above his nape to soothe him as his climax concluded as well. 

The buzzing in your head was replaced by the sound of your own pulse, the sound of your own blood rushing through your ears making you so self-conscious that you almost pulled away from Atsumu's grip. The same heavy exhales left his mouth as he raised a hand to sweep away the strands of hair that was stuck on your sweat-sheened neck. 

"You..." He started. "Look at ya. You're so fucking pretty and those scrubs oughta be jealous."

You cupped his face in both your hands before leaning down to kiss him softly, tears pooling in your eyes as he tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. 

"I love you, too," he said, his voice low that it reverberated through your chest. "Only you."

Atsumu messaged you when he got home that evening after having dinner with your family, including the part where Osamu teased him for coming home in his spare training shorts. 

Your aunts found the two of you curled up together comfortably as you dozed off, the sliding doors drawn open to let in the cool afternoon breeze. Your father was oddly suspicious as to why you were wearing a longer dress compared to the flimsier one you had on earlier, but you brushed it off as dressing appropriately for your guest. 

Your mother and aunts were laughing and whispering to themselves as they observed the boy placing food over your rice before finally getting some for himself. "My, Atsumu-kun, we're sure Otome-chan can get her own food, so don't worry and eat up."

"Ah, but I, uh, like doing things for her," he replied with a bashful smile on his face, a hand suddenly on the back of his head. "She does a lot for me, too. I guess I just want to take care of her."

Your father quirked an eyebrow at the younger man's reply, but your mother playfully nudged him. The older women's chattering filled the dining room again, but you paid no mind to their banter. You smiled to yourself as Atsumu stuffed his face with rice and steamed vegetables. 

This boy was _yours_ , all right. And you could take care of him _way better_ than anyone else could claim.

He was visually surprised when you turned up to school the following Monday wearing the darkest pair of tights underneath your black skirt uniform. 

"You probably left welts on her, Tsumu," you heard Osamu tease his twin. "Try not to be so hot-blooded next time."

He wasn't wrong, though.

The girls from your class were surprised when you entered the changing room with them for gym class, even taking the middle locker as you stripped down from your school uniform. You heard the whispers die out as you slid out of the dark tights, revealing fading purple streaks on your thighs and waist which were obviously greedy hand prints left by Atsumu.

"I-It's nice of you to join us today, Otome-san," one of the girls started, her eyes flitting from the bruises to the calculating look on your face. "You rarely change with us whenever it's time for gym class."

A soft hum left your lips as you pulled up your hair to a ponytail, revealing a single love bite just below your right collarbone. You smiled at them coolly, allowing them to gaze and gape at the little love bruises printed on your body.

"Looks like you had a fun weekend," another girl remarked, the verve in her voice gone as she eyed the red and violet bruise on your chest before finally looking away. 

You got into your gym uniform and stretched your arms upward, feeling absolutely accomplished as you made your point without even speaking yet. All eyes were on you again as you spoke rather happily. "Ah, thanks. Atsumu and I had a great time. Anyway, I'm heading out first. Nice to talk to you." 

The girls' changing room was oddly quiet whenever you were there afterwards. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahah hello, hello, dear readers and friends! Thank you so much for your support for this series. I'm so glad you picked it up. ♡ I've been in a writing slump over the last few months and have only started writing again after a Sakusa and Atsumu brainrot lol. I hope these ficlets cheer you up just as much as how it made me happy writing these. ♡ 
> 
> Just a tiny note I forgot to indicate beforehand, but these ficlets don't follow a chronological order, so we could be jumping to and from high school to the future to the gods know which world we'll go next lol. Also, I know this is rated M and I still have yet to write something xxx, but I hope the prospect doesn't scare you away, seeing as all of these fics have been nothing less than sickeningly sweet. (Pray that I don't go all red while writing a lemon lol!) 
> 
> Once again, I thank you so much for the comments and the kudos! I hope you stick around for the next ones! ♡
> 
> You can talk to me/scream with/at me on Twitter or Curious Cat @quirklessbeauty ♡


	5. Oceanside Lemonade || Oikawa Tooru

**Oceanside Lemonade**

\-- ✿ --

_**Invisible String** _

Instead of finding a quiet place where he could lament his last days in junior high school in peace, Oikawa Tooru found you. 

He entered the Literature Club room in a rush, noting it was probably the first one he reached without bursting into tears over the Kitagawa Daiichi Boys' Volleyball Club's recent loss to Shiratorizawa Junior High. The brunet expected the room to be empty, but there you were, startled by the rattling of the door after being so engrossed in your own writing. 

You recognised him as the boys' volleyball club captain and the object of affection of many of your female classmates. However, he was hardly the image of grace and elegance on the court at the moment, especially since his face was all red trying to contain his tears. He was just as startled as you were when he realised he wasn't alone in the room. 

Your mother once said it was rude to stare at people who were crying, especially if they were trying to hide their tears, so you lowered your head and returned to your scribbling. The door was shut close and you thought he had left, but he walked to the corner of the room and sat still for a few minutes before finally speaking.

"Please don't tell anyone you saw me here."

You fished for something in your bag and approached him, getting down on your knees so you were face to face with him. 

"My mother told me it's rude to ask people why they're crying, but I figured there's nothing to lose for the both of us since we're on our last leg of junior high. Whatever it is you're weeping about, I'm pretty sure you did your best," you told him before handing him a pack of pocket tissues. "You have nothing to worry about. We won't be seeing each other afterwards, anyway." 

He chuckled at you before finally taking the tissues in your hand. "I guess you're right."

You were right for the most part since your paths rarely crossed after that single encounter. Your last days of junior high school went by smoothly and peacefully. The romance anthology you wrote as part of the Literature Club was warmly received by members and readers, one of whom was the graduated captain of the boys' volleyball club. 

After the graduation day ceremony, Oikawa approached you outside the gymnasium with his signature megawatt smile, diploma and flowers in hand and his _gakuran_ swept of all its golden buttons. 

"Writer-chan!" 

"It's actually Otome," you replied with your name as you turned to face him. "But not that it matters now. Congratulations."

"Of course it does! Congratulations as well!"

He gently snipped the button on the left sleeve of his gakuran and handed it to you. "Thank you, friend, for reaching out to me back then."

_Friend,_ he said. You were practically strangers with a shared secret, but you indulged him, seeing as you won't be seeing him again, after all. You took the single button from his palm with a smile. "You're welcome, friend."

You likened him to the ocean's waves— refreshing, but always coming and going. Waves weren't meant to stay in one place for so long, so you saw no point in needlessly wading in the cool waters. 

_I don't want to drown, after all,_ you thought to yourself. 

Oikawa had the most bewildered look on his face when you bumped into each other on your first week of senior high school at Aoba Johsai and you knew you looked just as surprised by the encounter. 

"It's writer-chan!" He greeted you with his most pleasant smile. "And here I thought we'd never see each other again!"

He made it a point for the two of you to exchange contact details, saying something about how the gods of fate must definitely want you to have something to do with each other. A brooding figure approached from behind him, brows knotted as he pushed the taller boy who still had your cellphone in his hands. You recognised him as Oikawa's wing spiker from Kitagawa Daichi as well as his closest friend.

"The hell are you doing picking up girls in the middle of the hallway, Trashykawa?" Iwaizumi Hajime barked at him, prompting him to hand back your phone to you. 

"I'm not picking her up, Iwa-chan! She's from Kitaichi! My friend from the Literature Club!" The taller brunet whined. "Don't mind him, Otome-chan. He probably woke up on the wrong side of the— Ow!"

"You can talk later. We're gonna be late for our try-outs," Iwaizumi stated before nudging him forward on his feet. 

"We'll see you around, Otome-chan!" Oikawa waved back at you as they made their way to the school gymnasium. Iwaizumi managed a small nod at you before turning to reprimand the setter for holding them up.

Throughout your high school life, you couldn't count how many times you sharply dismissed the gossip surrounding your odd friendship with the boys' volleyball club setter, who rose to become the team captain on your third year. Oikawa's keen-eyed watchers found him occasionally dropping by the Literature Club for no apparent reason other than to talk to you. Those rumours were quickly shut down when he was spotted with a different girl in his arm— a classmate of yours, the kind of girl you'd want to do things for because of her charming face and personality. You didn't find it that surprising at all. In fact, they looked really good together. 

You paid no mind to the fact that he was purposely ignoring you now whenever you passed by each other in the hallways. Not that you ever made the initiative to greet him first, but there were times when you looked at him rather expectantly and he would just avert his gaze. Iwaizumi told you that it wasn't just you Oikawa was avoiding, but basically the whole female student body. You realised that the whole thing was probably orchestrated by his girlfriend. 

_Typical. He's not one to do things half-heartedly,_ you thought to yourself. _So once again, I'm not surprised._

When you met each other outside of school for the first time in such a long time, you learned to finally grow indifferent to him that you didn't even know what to say to him when he greeted you with one of his dazzling smiles. Oikawa perked up when he spotted you picking up your little sibling, who was one of his students at the local Lil'Tykes Volleyball classes he taught at during his downtime. 

"It's Otome-chan!" He called out rather happily, but you coolly turned away and took your younger sibling's hand to make way for home. You heard him choke at your reaction. "O-Otome-chan! Are you ignoring me?!" 

"Oh, are we on speaking terms again?" You asked him, pausing on your tracks and merely looking over your shoulder. "Or is it just because we aren't at school?"

Oikawa's young nephew Takeru had dragged your sibling away to practice more tosses with his own volleyball when he realised that his uncle would be held up in a conversation. The tall boy looked rather apologetic before raking a hand through his dark hair. "Ugh. I'm so sorry. I've been a real jerk to you, I know. But there's nothing to worry about now. I—" 

"I think the last thing you need right now is a distraction, _Oikawa-san_ ," you replied to him, his expression changing once again as you called him by his last name and not how you usually did. "And your girlfriend did a pretty good job clearing your way. It's all right, though. I'm not even a threat to her and yet—"

"We broke up."

"...What?"

Long arms were crossed over his chest now, his immaculately white track jacket crinkling underneath the motion. "W-Well, of course I won't admit to just anyone that she was the one who ended things because she didn't like how much time I spent playing volleyball. But she should've known that the sport was part of..."

You really didn't pay any more attention to his explanation, but the incredulous look on your face completely gave away your thoughts, because, _fuck, the audacity of that bitch—_

"I know I should've decided things for myself and I should've listened to Iwa-chan, Mattsun and Makki when they were pointing out all the red flags. Gosh, I still feel so awful about it. I didn't like having to avoid you when there was so much I wanted to talk to you about."

The two of you stood there in silence, the children's laughter and the cool morning breeze filling in the void after he had finished talking. 

"Is..." You had grabbed fistfuls of your skirt that was fluttering in the wind, hands shaking as you tried to think of the right words to say. "Is that all?"

"Y-Yeah..." he replied rather uneasily as he saw your fists shuddering rather angrily. He took a step forward toward you and reached out for your balled fists, gently soothing them to loosen your grip before placing one of your palms over his chest rather dramatically. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. And I have to admit, seeing you look at me so indifferently hurts my heart!"

"Wh— Tooru-kun, stop!" You snatched your hand away from his warm grip only for him to pull you closer. 

"You called me Tooru-kun! Ah, I'm so happy!" He beamed at you, gently letting you go and finally beckoning his nephew to join him. "Anyway, I won't hold you and your sibling up any longer. Let's talk after club, ne? Bye-bye!" 

True to his word, Oikawa arrived at the Literature Club room days later, his boisterous entrance startling you so much that it could only mean he did it on purpose. 

"Drama just loves me, doesn't it?" He chuckled, taking a vacant seat to sit across you like he always does whenever he came to see you. "And you never run out of things to write about, ne, Otome-chan?"

"There's always something interesting happening around me," you replied, not even bothering to look up at him after he surprised you just moments ago. He had brought out his cellphone, mindlessly scrolling through his social media since he couldn't think of anything else to ask you. The quiet was finally broken when he placed his phone on your desk, most likely bored stiff and stifled by the silence of the whole club room. 

"If we had dated instead, you wouldn't mind me spending most of my time training, isn't that right, Otome-chan?"

You were both shocked by the snapping of your mechanical pencil's lead against your notebook. His eyes widened as you looked up him, red-faced and rendered speechless. You were sure you looked like a fucking doe in the headlights, even more so when you saw his lips quiver to a small delighted smile. 

"Wh-What?! D-Don't talk about that kind of stuff, Trashykawa!" 

"Did you just hear yourself?! You sound just like Iwa-chan now!" The smile melted into a pout. "Is dating me such a bad idea for you? I'm so hurt, Otome-chan!" 

"You should hear yourself! Spouting all this nonsense about d-dating..." you slid your notebook away from you and accidentally nudged his phone off the desk, which you both hurriedly tried to catch, your hands and fingers tangling midair as you caught the object. A sigh left your lips as you straightened your back. "You can let go of me now, Tooru-kun."

"Let me hold you for a bit, Otome-chan," he told you, scooting over much closer to where you sat. "May I?"

"Wait, what do you mean hold—"

Oikawa was six feet tall and surprisingly sturdy despite his elegant, slender appearance. He rested part of his weight on you when he pulled you into an embrace, long arms gently coiling around your waist. 

"T-Tooru-kun?" You squeaked at him, slipping your arms under his to return his embrace. "Is everything all right?..."

"Is it unpleasant?" He asked you, his voice reverberating through your chest. You shook your head, your hair brushing against his cheek. "Good. Because I'd like to do this again." 

When he finally pulled away, he laughed at your red face so much that he almost fell off his seat. It took every bit of your energy to kick him out of the Literature Club room, his laughter ringing throughout the school's empty halls. 

From then on, you became each other's warm bodies, but nothing more than that. Commitment was something you couldn't ask from each other, too, especially from him, who had a future in the game in the long run. You would be nothing but a distraction. In turn, he worked to make sure your anthologies were well-received by the student body. 

Holding onto even the smallest sliver of hope was emotional suicide, but you can't count how many times you had to save yourself from drowning in the coldness of the deep blue sea that was Oikawa Tooru. You didn't even know if you were still _breathing_ after that.

You couldn't help but find the whole thing nostalgic. The red-faced Oikawa finding you scribbling away in the Literature Club room in the wake of their loss to Shiratorizawa just mere months away from high school graduation. He had told you beforehand of his plans to migrate to South America following recommendations by the boys' volleyball club's elderly Coach Irihata and you had congratulated him for it. 

Still in his club tracksuit, he made his way to where you were and wordlessly grabbed a seat, observing you in silence before finally speaking. 

"I'm not coming back until I've finally become the player I want to be," he stated, sitting across you as you continued your writing. He changed his tone into a more playful one, the kind he used whenever he was teasing people. "Won't you feel even a bit sad that I'll be leaving, Otome-chan?"

The ocean waves once merely splashing at your feet had become a whole tidal wave and it threatened to drown you now. 

You paused from your writing and looked up at him. "Shall we grab a drink?"

Most of the students had already left the campus at that time, so you had no trouble walking around school with him. The last thing you wanted was to be seen with him and have your entire relationship questioned when even you had no answers for yourself. 

"I won't be sad when you leave, Tooru-kun," you told him, eyes on the setting sun as you sipped on your milk box. "You're pursuing your dreams and I am elated at the prospect of what kind of player you'll be in the future. The world is in your hands. You have only to grasp it now."

On your way back to the Literature Club room, he was chattering about his prospective successors to the volleyball club's captaincy. The two of you ended up leaning on the club window, figures drowned in the colours of dusk as your conversation slowly died out. You stood there in complete silence, a feeling of contentment washing over you as you turned to smile at him. 

"I await the day I see you on the world's centre stage."

Oikawa smiled back at you tenderly— a small one he usually reserved for moments such as this. "And I await the day I finally get my hands on a real novel written by you."

"I'm not sure how we'll make that happen since you'll be moving far away," you replied with a chuckle. "I guess we'll figure something out when it's here."

"Thank you, dearest friend," he gave you a short bow, a hand on his chest as he met your gaze again once again. "Because of you, I never lost my heart."

You've seen different parts of him throughout the years you've been called his cherished friend, but you never really had a clue about what was going on in his head even as he laid his words bare. He leaned down and brushed a kiss on your cheek, surprised by the tears that fell from your eyes. You've both come to realise that your emotions betrayed your words and there was nothing you could do to take it back. 

_I swam too far from the shore,_ you told yourself that night. _It's painful, but at least I know I'm alive._

When graduation day came once again, he had no golden button to give you, just a promise that he would keep in touch with you even as he left Japan. You barely had the chance to talk to him on that day since he was surrounded by his kouhais from the volleyball club, along with other wide-eyed admirers who were keen to get their final presents to him. 

"Hey, Otome-chan! Get over here!" You heard him call out to you, beckoning you to come over to where he was. Iwaizumi was holding a mobile phone and was ready to do his best friend a favour. "We need a commemorative photo!" 

That same photo sat at your desk in your little studio apartment for years to come. 

Oikawa had kept his promise to you and his friends and kept in contact so frequently that you'd mistake him for having so much time in his hands. The calls were sparse, but the messages came nearly every day, even with a 12-hour time difference between the two of you. 

When you told him about how you were unable to finish your college degree at Miyagi Gakuin Women's University after the vast collection of anthologies you wrote back in high school was discovered by a local publisher, he called you the soonest he could and asked how you felt. 

_"As long as you're doing what you love and pursuing what your heart's telling you,"_ you recall him saying with a low voice, one you haven't heard in such a long time that it rendered you to tears. _"I'll continue supporting you, Otome-chan. You have all of my support!"_

The local publisher was so enamoured with your juvenile work that they asked you to write something completely new for them, assigning one of their best editors to you to keep you grounded as you worked. Somehow you couldn't quite point out if this was one great stroke of good luck or a damn honeytrap you can't walk away from anymore. _Yes,_ you stopped college halfway to start writing novels, just like what you dreamed of before, writing alone in your high school club room. It was happening way too soon. 

You were rarely asked to come by to the publishing house, but you were often in contact with your editor, who you missed a call from since you were making coffee for yourself while working on a new story draft. The last one had just left your hands earlier this week and you didn't expect to hear anything about it for quite a while, so you called him back to confirm if everything was all right. 

"Hello, Tatara-san. Is there something wrong?" 

_"Otome-san, I don't know what to say, to be honest. But, ah, anyway, now isn't the time to lose my composure. I have great news for you."_

You nearly dropped your cup of coffee when you heard that your last draft would be published into a book. "Are you for real?!"

The poignant novel you slaved over for days and nights to years, _Two Silver Moons,_ would be published by the end of the year, just in time for Christmas. You would have to be there during the whole process, but the publishing house guaranteed you a break afterwards, unexpectedly given but greatly welcomed. You thought of visiting your in time for the new year, but you remembered that your parents were out in their own little cruise around the world. 

The options you had were pretty close by until you received a reply from Oikawa, who was most likely in the middle of his club training. 

_O. Tooru: I'm so happy for you, Otome-chan! Congratulations! (≧▽≦)_

You never left Sendai for most of your life, but you took off at the first sign of a break, much to the chagrin of your editor, who helped you update your passport, book your flights and tickets, book the hotel where you would be staying and even mentally prepared you for the different kind of culture you'd experience. Two weeks was long enough, you recall him telling you. You both lamented the fact that you burned out nearly a quarter of what you earned from your first novel's publication for this little excursion of yours, but you figured it was something you could earn back with another book or two. 

Your last message to Oikawa was back from the new year. Turning to your wristwatch, you estimated what time it would be in Argentina before determining that you'd receive a reply.

_Me: Say, how long is a flight from Tokyo to San Juan?_

_O. Tooru: You wouldn't want to know._

_Me: But what if I do?_

_O. Tooru: Otome-chan! Don't tell me you plan on coming here! (☉∀☉)_

You laughed to yourself, pulling your luggage close to you as you stood in line at the Narita Airport boarding area, passport and boarding pass in the other hand. 

_Me: I'll see you soon, Tooru-kun._

_O. Tooru: Please, if you're just saying all of this, just stop. You're gonna disappoint me. (ᗒᗩᗕ)_

_Me: Have to check in my luggage. I'll message you when I'm in France._

_O. Tooru: Oh my gosh, Otome-chan! If I arrive at Ezeiza Airport and you're not there, you can forget that we're friends!_

It was only when you got on the plane and had to sit for nearly 13 hours that you realised how far spread out the whole world really is. Sendai was but a speck of dust from your view above the clouds, but it will always be home to you. You brought out your tiny notepad and started scribbling about a flight situation you could incorporate in your next story as you passed the time. 

_The wait will be worth it,_ you convinced yourself. _I've waited for so long to be able to swim in your presence again. What's another 34 hours in air?_

There was a 7-hour layover which quickly passed by for you as you kept yourself engrossed in your writing. Something about Parisian coffee made your heart race a bit quicker than normal and it made all the wheels in your head turn non-stop until you realised you burned through nearly half of your notepad. You pocketed the coffee-stained paper napkins that held more of your writing and folded it neatly enough with shaking fingers to fit it your tiny notepad. The last hour of the layover was spent freshening up and changing into a new blouse, as well as counting all the tiles your eyes could take in from where you sat. You decided against having coffee in Argentina because of the havoc it wrecked over your body.

_O. Tooru: Otome-chan, are you about to board your flight to here? Take care and don't forget to stretch around!_ _ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ_

_Me: You sent a photo._

It was a blurry, crazy, hair in face kind of selfie that you usually reserved for your parents and siblings. If there was such a thing as coffee-drunk, it was definitely happening to you. You were glad the caffeine finally died out mid-flight and you spent the remaining seven hours asleep. You practically had no sense of time when you boarded off the plane from France, but your entire being was shaken awake when you spotted the tall setter with a little placard that had your name on it in his hands. Oikawa, who was in a bright red shirt and khaki chino shorts, broke into a smile when he spotted you.

"Yohoo! Otome-chan!"

"T—" You stammered, far too excited to meet his embrace that you ended up _slipping_ face first across the Ezeiza Airport terminal, eliciting shocked gasps from onlookers and people passing by. It took you a solid minute to get up before grumbling to yourself. "Ahh, what the _fuck,_ Otome?"

Oikawa laughed and everything felt better all of a sudden. He was down on his left knee to check if you were all right. "You seem fine."

"I am!" You told him, finally raising your eyes to meet his gaze. "I'm totally fine."

"Ah, that's good!" He stated, a hand on his chest as he breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, let's go! We have another plane to catch, don't we?"

"Ack! I didn't know that you had to fly here!" You exclaimed apologetically, finally getting up on your feet as he pulled you up with him. "I'll, uh, pay for your next flight! Or something!" 

"Don't worry about me, Otome-chan! It's been a while since I've had a visitor here, so I'm rather thrilled! I've been granted a tiny break by my club since you've gone through lengths to see me. For now, let's get some of your yen changed into pesos."

He chuckled to himself as you both stood before the money changer, hearing him comment about how it's been so long since he last saw and held yen in his hands. He looked rather shocked at the amount you brought with you, not entirely sure if he should return the money to you. "Otome-chan! You brought way too much! Are you planning to buy the whole province of San Juan or something?"

"Tatara-san— My editor told me it was better to bring extra than to find myself short on funds," you turned to him, wringing your fingers in worry. "Maybe keep it for me for the meantime?"

"Gladly! Consider me your tour guide, body guard, accountant— what else?" He said thoughtfully, slipping the rolls of Argentine pesos in his tiny body bag before taking your hand in his. "The next time you make a trip like this, at least tell me beforehand. We can always meet halfway instead of you just coming all the way here to see me." 

"But it was me who wanted to see you," you replied, looking up at him. He was searching for the Aerolineas Argentinas ticket office. 

"All right, so we book same-day flights, two hours to Mendoza Airport, and finally catch a bus to the city. Pretty sure I didn't miss anything," he counted with his fingers. "If my estimates are correct, we'll arrive at around 18:00 to 18:30, just in time to grab some dinner. Or maybe you want some coffee?"

"No coffee," you waved your hand over your face. "Parisian coffee drove me nuts while I was in France. I'd like to be able to sleep later, please."

You were able to sleep during your two-hour flight, your slumber abruptly interrupted when the captain announced your descent to San Juan. Of course you apologised profusely for accidentally drooling on Oikawa's sleeve. 

"Ugh. I didn't know you had to travel so far to pick me up from Buenos Aires. I'm so sorry, Tooru-k—" 

"Hush now, Otome-chan," he presented your bus tickets to the conductor before pulling you up with him. "If you're really sorry, just promise me we'll have a lot of fun while you're here. And besides, what's a little travelling when I get to spend time with you?"

The five-hour-long bus ride passed by in a flash as Oikawa pointed at every significant landmark he could identify on the road, while you had your tiny notepad in your hands again to jot down shaky phrases, listening closely to how he pronounced the foreign names and words. 

You felt like you were floating in the middle of a calm ocean, the afternoon sun beating over your skin as you let yourself be carried away by the waves. 

He chose to have dinner at a little place called Soychu, which specialised in vegetarian meals. It was also near the hotel your editor booked for you. Oikawa, who considered this place his home for the last two years, seemed rather amused at the way your head whipped around at every curious sound you heard. 

"San Juan isn't as colourful as Buenos Aires, but it has its own charms," he told you, placing a serving of _provoleta_ on your plate. "We'll have a lot of time to explore tomorrow, so you should rest up after such a long flight."

And you were indeed charmed by the city's nightlife— jet lag quickly replaced by sensory overload as you tried to take in everything you laid your eyes on and everything you heard— lights reflecting from the restaurant windows, a cool evening breeze and the odd stranger greeting a friend in a language you had no idea about. Even the restaurant you were in captured your heart in a way you can't put in to words. 

" _Departamento en San Juan?_ " You read the booking made by your editor a few weeks back as you stood outside the apartment premises. "Is that right?" 

"Yeah, this is it. Wait a moment, I'll confirm your booking," he said as he entered the premise to greet the receptionist. " _¡Buenas noche! Mi querida reservo una cuarto..._ "

You honestly had no idea what he was telling the middle-aged receptionist who gave you a short glance before turning to her log book. His Spanish was really good and you were sure he wasn't selling you out to a murderer, at least, seeing how the lady smiled at you. She turned around to grab the keys to your lodging for the next two weeks and threw out something that sounded like a question. " _¿Te quedaras tambien?_ " 

Oikawa chuckled, understanding what it meant. He turned to you with a smile as he was handed the keys. " _Ya veremos._ " 

The cream-coloured apartment room had a single king-sized bed in the only bedroom, a wide kitchen space, a clean bathroom with a heated shower and a tiny balcony that overlooked the lighted cobblestone street they walked earlier. 

"All right, everything looks good to me," he walked out of the bathroom, which was the last place he checked after making his rounds in the space you'll be living in for the next two weeks. "I'll leave you to rest and unpack, Otome-chan. The Wi-fi password is on the refrigerator. And don't you worry about your money because I won't go running away with it! Message me tomorrow, all right?"

He was just about to take his leave, hand already on the door when you stopped him midway, gently pulling at the hem of his red shirt. "T-Tooru-kun, wait a moment. I... I, uh..."

The words didn't come out easily. You weren't just about ready to part ways with him just yet and you needed to let him know. 

"Otome," he started, dropping the honorific from your name for the first time. He raised his hand and brushed cool knuckles over your warm cheek before finally tipping your chin so your eyes would meet. "I don't quite understand what it is you're trying to tell me."

He was _teasing_ you. 

_I want to drown,_ your mind screamed at you. _I want to drown in you._

"I'm... not really that ready to let you go. I, uh... C-Can you stay here? Just for tonight, i-if it's all right. I just—"

He caught your quivering lips in his as he leaned down to kiss you and you felt all of your resolve crumble so easily just as you did in his arms. You threw your arms around his neck and willed yourself not to shed a single tear now. There was no clumsy fumbling out of your clothes as you were swept away to the bedroom, only the rapid thumping of your heart against his chest and his warm hands all over you— touching you so softly, gently, _kindly—_ making you cry even though you swore to yourself that you wouldn't. 

"Don't cry, Otome," he breathed over you, brushing a kiss on your cheek as he coiled his arms around you. "I'm sorry—"

"Don't—" You raised your hands to cup his face, softly grazing your thumb over his lips. "...Don't apologise now."

He obliged and saved the apologies for tomorrow or another day. Now wasn't the time for any of that at all. Not when you've waited for him to hold you like _this_ for so long. 

_You have nothing to be sorry for, Tooru. I wanted to swim so I dove in._

If there was one thing you were sure about, it was already morning. The light from your window said so, at least. You blinked away your bleary vision and tried to move, only to find an arm draped over your figure. Your back. _Wait, am I naked? Don't tell me we—_

A head of tousled dark hair was asleep beside you, the morning sun beating on his naked and toned back. 

_Oikawa Tooru._

He groaned in his sleep before moving closer and pulling you in his arms, your cheek gently colliding with his chest, the steady beating of his heart enough to pacify your thoughts. It didn't take long for him to stir and finally awaken, planting a tender kiss on the crown of your head. 

"Look at you," he stated, eyes disappearing as he beamed at you. "You've grown much lovelier. Can't believe it took me this long to tell you." 

"Good morning, Tooru," you smiled back at him, warm hands on his face. You brushed away the hair stuck on his forehead. 

"Oh, right! Now that we're here, would you please do me the favour?"

You sat up with him, stretching your arms while he reached for his tiny body bag on the bedside table right next to him. He pulled out a copy of _Two Silver Moons_ and handed it to you.

"You—" your fingers curled around the book, flipping through the pages in complete disbelief. "How?..." 

"Come now! Did you really think I'd miss out on the golden opportunity of grabbing a copy of your first novel?" He waved a hand, an obviously pleased smile on his face. "I pulled a few strings here and there, but it's the real deal, isn't it? Will you sign it for me?"

"Tooru, I—" To both your surprise, you still had more tears to cry. "Y-You really went out of your way for this. You really care this much—"

"Why on earth would I not care about you, Otome?" He stated, moving in to kiss your forehead. "You're so precious to me."

He could sense the apprehension you were feeling and he couldn't blame you for it. The two of you danced around each other's feelings even since you were both young, neither having an idea of what the other truly was to them. He had an answer to that now.

"There's a thing they call people like us," he said, taking one of your hands in his. "We are lovers, are we not?"

_Lovers._ Oh, the word felt absolutely foreign to you before because you had absolutely no idea what you were. It sounded so much pleasant to you both now. You smiled at him and his knotted brows disappeared.

"Yes, I believe we are."

"Ah, that's a relief. I thought you wouldn't agree with me," he sighed, obviously relieved by your reply. "So where do you want to go today, querida? What are you writing about? We can go to the Leoncito Astronomical Complex. Or the Museo Provincial de Bellas Artes Franklin Rawson. There's also the San Guillermo National Park. Ischigualasto Provincial Park. I can go on and on, you know."

"You lead the way, leaderman," you said with a chuckle as you reached for a pen on the bedside table. You jotted down a message on the front page of his book.

_'To Oikawa Tooru-senshu. Thank you for your love and support! Likewise, you will always have mine. I love you.'_

Regardless of the time and distance you've spent apart, you find yourselves gravitating back towards each other, hearts bound by an unseen force you both finally had the right word for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for my rusty Spanish lol. 
> 
> The conversation Tooru had with the lady receptionist went pretty much like this:
> 
> T: Good evening! My darling reserved a room...  
> R: Will you stay too?  
> T: *laughs* We'll see. 
> 
> Some song recs because this was such an awful brainrot and I needed the music to temper myself. (・∀・)
> 
> • Future - Red Velvet  
> • Sleeps with Butterflies - Tori Amos  
> • My Sweet Hometown - Reese Lansangan


	6. Happy Hour and Sweetener || Miya Osamu

**Happy Hour and Sweetener**

\-- ✿ --

**Pillow Talk**

Whatever it was you were feeling, your head throbbed rather painfully. 

You could hear soft rustling and footsteps on your tatami floor. Your vision was hazy, but you were able to make out the blurry silhouette of your mother in her favourite coral pink yukata. A coolness brushed over your forehead but it did very little to ease the strange warmth you feel your body has been holding in. 

"...?"

"Don't try to get up," you heard her tell you, hands on your shoulders as she gently eased you back on your futon. "I'll call your school, sweetheart. You have a fever and you're in no condition to attend classes today. You have to rest up."

_A fever?_

"You should let Osamu-kun know as well," she tucked you into your _kakebuton_ , a gentle hand running over your forehead before finally taking your phone and placing it in your hands. "I'm sure he'll be wondering why you aren't at school."

Your mother had left your room with her tiny golden basin filled with cool water and a little towel she used to wipe the beads of sweat that formed on your face just moments ago. 

"Ah, right. I have to tell..." 

You were halfway through your text message to your boyfriend when you fell asleep again. The throbbing of your head made keeping your eyes open hurt. 

At school, the younger Miya twin was rather surprised when he saw his brother walk out of his classroom alone. The three of you usually had breaks together and when Osamu heard from Atsumu that you were out sick today, he checked his phone to see if he got any messages from you, but he found none, much to his surprise again. The grey-haired twin was ready to dial your number when the blond shot him a look.

"Samu, sensei did say she was sick. If ya call her, you might disturb her rest. Message her instead so she can answer at her convenience."

Osamu was surprised by his own brother's perceptiveness that he found himself typing a message he may not even get an answer to. 

The sudden beeping of your phone woke you up from your sleep and you blindly pawed at your bed, only to find your mobile still resting on your chest. 

_M. Osamu: You didn't go to school today?_

Short as it was, the message still brought a smile to your red face. You softly punched in a reply. 

_Me: Yws, babe. :( M sick. Sorry i wasn't able to tell u earlier. M head hurts._

_M. Osamu: Aww. Get well soon, babe. :(_

Ah, you hated how much it hurt to even exert the slightest bit of effort, but everything was soon forgotten when you finally drifted off to sleep again, undisturbed until the afternoon finally came. 

The soft clattering of a metal basin and padded footfalls against your tatami floor stirred you awake, orange afternoon sunlight cast over an unfamiliar figure seated right beside you. 

"No need to get up fer me, babe," the blurred figure said with a soft chuckle, a cool hand on your forehead as he eased you back into your futon. 

"...Samu?" 

"Bingo. Now don't talk too much if your head still hurts. I can do that for both of us now." 

"...Club?" 

"Skipped," he replied, shrugging off his khaki school blazer and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt before dipping the small towel in the golden basin and wringing it out. He placed the folded towel on your forehead, softly brushing away the strands of hair stuck on your skin. "Kita-san said it was all right. He also said something about the importance of caring for my future wife." 

A choked out cough left your mouth even though you intended to laugh at his statement. "Sorry."

"Ya got nothing to apologise for, babe. Rest up and get better for me, all right?"

Your feeble attempt to nod caused the damp towel to slide off your face before being quickly caught by Osamu. He softly placed it back on your forehead before lifting up your _kakebuton_ , revealing your curled up figure still in last night's pyjamas. 

"...Samu, wh-what are you doing?"

"I'm getting in there," he replied, gently sliding under your blanket and slowly pulling you closer to him. He folded his left arm and rested his head on his chin while his other arm was draped around your figure. "I brought your parents some seasoned onigiri. I think yer mom's cooking some miso soup for you."

"I want onigiri, too," you managed to mumble, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you felt his large hand gently patting your back, as if lulling you to sleep again. "Samu..."

"Hmm?"

His face was awfully close, but it was still blurred out by the tears that accompanied your yawn. 

"I love you."

"'Course you do, babe," you heard him chuckle, followed by cool knuckles brushing over your still-burning cheek. "And I love you, too. Now get some rest. I'm just right here."

**\-- ✿ --**

**Red like**

It was the evening of the first of August in the middle of your second year in high school. And while it was actually summer break, the teachers still made sure that their students would be preoccupied with enough schoolwork ahead of the next term, but just the right amount to keep them on their toes. 

Summer break meant very little change to your life since you were still preoccupied with club as well, just as much as your boyfriend was with the boys' volleyball club as well. However, the Kifune Danjiri Festival would take place in the city on this particular night and you and Osamu weren't missing it. 

You went with him last year as well and you recalled the bewitched look on his face when you walked out of your room in one of your mother's favourite yukata— a gold one with _hanaguruma_ printed all over it, along with a royal blue obi. This year's yukata would be an emerald green one with pink chrysanthemums and a matching gold obi. You were on your finishing touches that evening when you heard one of your aunts lead Osamu to the courtyard outside your bedroom. Judging from his silhouette, he was still in his club tracksuit, something you already expected. 

"Just a moment, Samu!"

You fished out a bright red lip tint from your make up pouch, something that was suggested by one of your _kouhais_ from the Literature Club. It smelled absolutely sweet. 

The door to your room gently slid open as you got on your knees in front of your ornate wooden dresser. Three soft swipes of the tint proved to be more than enough pigment, but you were pleased with how the colour was well-spread across your lips. 

"Good evening, _oujo-sama_ ," you heard the teasing tone in Osamu's voice. You gently turned your head to face him, a smile on your lips as you saw his figure resting on the wooden door frame, slender fingers holding the straps of your _geta_. "Are we ready to go?"

"Good evening to you as well, Miya-senshu," you said with a small laugh as you rose to meet his gaze. You could tell that you had all of his attention by the way his eyes followed your swaying movements. His grey eyes darted from your eyes to your lips and you were half-expecting him to say something cute, like cherries or red petals, but his cheeky grin gave away his thoughts.

"It's like _beni shoga_ ," he said, gently grasping your chin between his fingers. He softly grazed his thumb over your delicately painted lips before diving in for a kiss. 

Your lips were quivering, a smile forming as you felt him cup your cheek. _Oh,_ Osamu was definitely smiling, too, and he was quick to rest his forehead against your own when he gently broke apart from you. For some reason, half of you expected him to compare your lips to a side dish and you didn't mind that much anymore. 

"Candy apples would have been a nicer comparison," you told him as he got on his left knee, his hands gently sliding your feet into your _geta._ He hopped off the wooden veranda and offered his hands to you. 

"I'm so sorry, _hime-sama_ , but I'm kinda starvin' already. I wonder what the people are serving there."

"Right, right, of course," you replied, hastily and gracelessly jumping into his arms with a laugh. "I'm so sorry to have kept you waiting." 

"Don't say that, Otome," he said with a chuckle as he spirited you away from your house. "Seeing you all dolled up like this was worth the wait." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These were written without the concept of COVID in mind. Everything's all normal here lol. But please, if your loved one's sick right now, don't be an idiot and go see them. Let them rest, y'all. 
> 
> I was hospitalised earlier last year due to a really bad case of acute gastroenteritis, but I remember being visited by my ex-boyfriend back then and I realised how endearing it actually is being visited by someone you love. That boyfriend is gone now and all that remains is my very sensitive stomach. 
> 
> Some terms used in this chapter:
> 
> Hanaguruma - Flower cart  
> Oujo-sama - Young lady, or rich girl  
> Beni shoga - Red pickled ginger


	7. Starry River Swim || Ojiro Aran

**Starry River Swim**

\-- ✿ --

**Flutterby**

The start of April meant new beginnings for young students like you, but it also meant you were already there at the cusp of adulthood. Graduation awaits mere months from this very moment, but you wanted to live in the present a little bit longer. You picked up the pace when you saw your high school sweetheart impeccably dressed in his school uniform already standing at your usual waiting spot which was just a few blocks away from your home. It was a precious sight for you— seeing Aran catching petals in his hand— and the whole thing was made even more valuable now that you were both on your last leg of high school. 

Now that you mentioned it, the cherry blossoms were in bloom when you first confessed to Aran, who helped you get up after you tripped in the hallway while you were on your way to your club room. It was quite a spectacle even though it was just the two of you back then. _(Your club forms and sheets flying in every corner, you landing squarely on your back, your hand in his larger one as he pulled you up from the floor, and his face— you could tell he was trying to be polite and holding back his laughter, but the creases on his forehead gave it all away.)_ It was Kita who brought up the term high school sweetheart back when you were all first-years, telling you it must be such an honour to be going out with an ace in the making. 

And what an honour it was to be his girlfriend for the last three years. 

You and Aran have shared the highs and lows of your very colourful high school life— from his rise to prominence as the Inarizaki Boys' Volleyball Club's ace, how you endeared yourself to his club mates, how he became one of the Literature Club's top subscribers, meeting each other's families, to your ascension as the Literature Club's Vice President, a cherished position which you'll have to surrender to your _kouhais_ sometime soon. 

_And every high and low has led to this._

"Good morning!" You exclaimed with a huff as you jogged toward the towering figure, his training bag around his body as he raised a hand to wave at you. "Sorry! Did you wait long?"

"Not at all! Oh, wait a moment," he said before pausing. His grey eyes lacked the usual sharp focus they had during a volleyball match, only holding tenderness as you came face to face. He ran his fingers through your hair and gently pulled off a single pink petal caught in the strands. "There we go." 

"A kiss would have been nice, too," you teased him, gently nudging him with your elbow. "It's our last spring in high school, after all." 

"Hah. It's not like we're not gonna run out of springs to spend together," he chuckled, matching his pace with yours as you both made your way to school. "Not unless ya plan on breaking up with me after graduation."

"O-Of course not!" You squeaked, clutching the straps of your school bag. "Why on earth would I ever break up with you?"

"That's a relief," he said with a hand on his chest as he let out a soft sigh. "We don't fix what isn't broken, same as how we don't purposely break what's working perfectly fine. So I'm glad we aren't breaking up."

His statement made you pause on your tracks, your eyes suddenly becoming very fogged up with tears. He saw you purse your lips to prevent them from quivering, but the tears were already streaming down your cheeks. 

"You're oddly sentimental," Aran told you, the warmest of smiles still on his face as he cupped your face in his hands. You lowered your eyes as he wiped away your tears. "Cheer up, buttercup. It's another insufferable ten months with me. Then four years of college for you."

"Ugh, don't remind me," you scrunched your nose. "But thank you for reminding me that there is life outside high school and we're just gonna have to keep on working hard to make this work. To make _us_ work."

"Ya know I'm determined to make things work. I hope you are, too. So, no," he said, a cheeky smile on his face as he brushed a kiss on your forehead. "Thank _you._ "

\-- ✿ --

**Routine**

There was no rest for young authors like you. 

Following the publication of your first novel, you were granted a very small break by your publishing house, but it wasn't much of a break considering how often your editor contacted you with sales updates, as well as the usual reminder not to slack off with your writing. Regardless, a break was a break and you indulged yourself by sleeping in all day and staying up all night, all cosied up in the comfortable high-rise condominium unit which you shared with your boyfriend. 

Aran, who was drafted into the Tachibana Red Falcons soon after high school graduation, had rented the place before you were both finally able to buy it for yourselves. It was mostly him at first, but after moving to Osaka yourself, you were dividing your living expenses with each other— _food, water, electricity_ _—_ never lacking in anything after the struggle of the first bill. You spent most of your time there alone now since he had to stay at the team's headquarters. 

Still, it was a home. It was _your_ home. Soon enough, Aran would be home as well. It was the start of the off-season, after all. 

On the third weekend of your one-month break, after a day and a half of simply lazing around, you decided to take a dip into the bath ahead of your boyfriend's arrival later in the evening. You dropped a peach bath bomb into the tub, a housewarming present from one of the Miya twins' girlfriends— you can't remember which one. The bubbles forming in the water were amusing to watch and you couldn't help but slide in as it filled the tub to the brim. 

The bath was just the right amount of warm and cool and it definitely helped ease the tensed knots on your back. While you promised yourself you'd take a break from writing, you couldn't put off writing a draft for a new novel after coming up with a rather odd plot. 

The sound of keys jingling against the front door surprised you, but you had no time to react since you left the bathroom door open. Your boyfriend, still in their bright red team tracksuit, shot you a smile as he took in the incredulous look on your face. 

"Hello, sugar," Aran stated, the same adoring smile on his face as he leaned against the door frame. 

"Hello, you," you replied with a soft smile, resting your chin on your arm as you leaned against the edge of the tub. "You're home early. I'm not complaining, though."

"You better start it, then," he said, shrugging off his track sweater and shedding the rest of his clothes. 

"H-Hey! What are you—"

"Make room for me, baby!" He declared with a laugh, a foot already in the tub as you slowly moved to make space for him. Bubbles sloshed out of the tub, the water gently rising as Aran relaxed into it. "C'mere, Otome. I haven't held you for so long!"

The space between his legs was inviting and he gladly welcomed you, toned arms coiling around your waist as you were pulled towards him, your back colliding with his chest.

"Ah, yes. What a perfect evening this is," he remarked with a careless sigh, a grin still on his face as he met your gaze. You quickly turned away when he saw that you were peering at him over your bare shoulder. "The dorm's baths aren't as nice as this." 

"If you want a bath with a girlfriend, you really should come home more often," you replied, gently reclining and resting your weight on him, which he didn't really complain about. "Or shall I make visits to you every now and then like what Atsumu-kun's girlfriend does?" 

"I'd rather not expose my weak spot like that, sweets," Aran chuckled, his voice reverberating against your chest. "I suppose I should come home every now and then, huh? How's that new book of yers coming along?" 

"I'd rather we not talk about that," the groan that left your mouth made him laugh even more. 

"Fine. Let's talk about something else, then," he said, his slate eyes slowly closing as he felt your hand rub bubbly circles on his stubble. "Anything interesting come up?"

"Oh! Shin-kun messaged me earlier," you slowly turned to face him. "Said something about getting—" 

"—rice again," Aran finished your statement, one eye cracking open as he gently tucked back a lock of wet hair framing your face, the strands coming loose from your hair clip. "I got that message earlier, too. Should we make the trip?"

"That would be nice," you said, taking a dollop of bubbles and placing it on his head. "A nice routine-breaker." 

"Weekend sound good?"

"Mm, yes." 

_Silence._ It was the comfortable kind, no needless chatter to fill in the void, just two hearts completely at ease with each other. 

"Sweets, I'm pretty sure you don't need that shampoo bottle you're tryna reach."

"I'm just saying you could use a good head scrub, Aran."

"I hardly have any hair! And peach shampoo?!" 


End file.
